The Blood of Akatosh
by The Vortal Coil
Summary: Martin falls for a Dark Brotherhood Assassin. Rated M for sexybits Martin/OC
1. The Temple

I don't own the Elder Scrolls series, nor any of the characters from the game. yes, this story is slightly AU, but it differs from the story only in the manner in which Martin reaches Cloud Ruler Temple and how he interacts with characters from the game. I have the expansion packs for Frostcrag Spire, BattleHorn Castle, Shivering Isles, and the Vile Lair, they may pop up as well.

Oh, and don't get yer panties in a bunch, I'm not just writing about what happens in the game, I'm writing what happens post-game. It will be awesome.

* * *

Children of Nirn

Martin wasn't one who panicked or worried needlessly, and yet there he was, staring at the ashen and bloodstained altar wearily, wringing his hands and cursing the names of his Aedra. Because people he knew screamed, and bled, and burned as the Daedra raged through the streets, and only he and a handful of others had lived. He cursed that he had watched men, women, and children fall and die in the streets, that his friends were torn limb from limb by the hungry beasts from the world he scorned. But, most of all, he hated the deities above for neglecting them in their time of need, that they sat up at their high judgement table, and let this beautiful city, and all it's innocent inhabitants, be crushed in one fatal move. He touched the velvety cloth on the altar, wishing that it would bring him comfort, and when he found none he cursed under his breath,

"Let Oblivion swallow this wretched city… no one will come for us now." He whispered, his shoulders slumped, "No one…" he stared at the altar forlornly, "We're alone… aren't we?"

"Don't be so down, Brother Martin." Clavicus smirked at him from his place on the floor, Martin averted his eyes from the wounded and dying man, kneeling down as if to pray. "Something will happen, you'll see."

"Yes…" Martin huddled closer to Clavicus, an Imperial who had just recently moved into town to start his own little Inn and make a life for him and his pregnant wife. The wife and Inn had burned, though, and Clavicus still put a wry grin on his face, even as his eye was plucked from him, and a poisoned blade sliced his gut. As he spoke, blood soaked the bandage, and his head lolled uselessly from side to side, the bandage covering his empty eye socket soaked with dark blood. "Don't speak, Clavicus, your wounds –"

"I know damn well I'm a dead man, but you're not even hurt and you look more like death than I do." He mumbled, leaning his head back against the floor, his skin was pale and his complexion a waxy and sweaty green. The wound on his stomach leaked puss and blood, a strange green slime oozing from his skin, "Don't give up on the world yet, Brother, it's not over."

"I know…"

"You'll see." Clavicus smiled, closing his eye, Martin heard his breath wheeze in his lungs, and as his chest relaxed, Clavicus smiled wider, "…You'll see…" It was a moment before Clavicus's chest settled, and Martin realized the Innkeeper had passed away. He fell back on his haunches, pulling himself up onto a bench nearby and putting his face in his hands,

"Where are you?" he whispered into his hands, "How do these beasts enter our world but out of _your_ will –"

"Martin?" Martin looked over at the old woman, "How is Clavicus?"

"He's dead, Lucia." Martin put his face in his hands, the old woman sat on a pew nearby, resting her head from a wound she had received, "I'm sorry, I know you two were friends."

"It's not your fault, my boy." She smiled, "Don't let his death get you down, he's in a better place, he's not suffering anymore."

"I hope not."

"I fear that I may not be long for this world, Martin."

"Don't say that." Martin sat next to her, "You're fine, you've just got a concussion."

"I mean in age." She chuckled, ruffling his hair, Lucia had always been the den mother in the chapel, ever since Martin could remember. She'd taken a fondness to him when he arrived almost twenty years before. "I'm an old woman."

"You're not old."

"Don't lie to me, boy." The Breton woman pinched his cheek, "I've had a good life, I can die happy."

"_Lucia Constant_," Martin raised an eyebrow, "I don't want to hear about it, if you die I'll be helpless."

"No." she shook her head, "You've got your father in you. You're not helpless –"

"Wait," Martin was puzzled, "You know my –"

"Brother Martin!" an older Breton man called Martin's name, "Brother Martin, the Oblivion Gate has been closed!"

"Closed?" Martin stood, "By whom?"

"Some girl from the Imperial City! She arrived, went into Oblivion, and closed the gate!"

"What of the Daedra in the city?"

"They're still clearing it, but we can try to get to safety –"

"I'm not leaving this chapel until the Daedra are gone and these people are safe." Martin sat back down, "We must wait."

"But Martin –"

"Do what you wish, but I'm not leaving, these people need help." He glanced at several other wounded townsfolk, at an Orc woman in particular, who had suffered a broken leg and rib from falling out of her window in an attempt to get away from a Clannfear. He laid back on the bench,

"She must be a spitfire, that girl." Said Lucia, sitting up, "Oof, my head."

"Maybe… I just want to get you out of here."

"I can walk, and I can take care of myself." They ignored the door to the chapel as it opened, Martin faced the altar, glancing sideways at Clavicus's body before pulling a blanket over the poor man's head. Footsteps and voices echoed in the church behind Martin, he pulled his feet up and laid on the bench, his head on Lucia's lap. He wasn't uncomfortable with Lucia, she always felt like a mother to him, and she never spurned him whenever he was in need of comfort ever since his real mother had passed away. "Martin," Lucia poked him, he grunted tiredly. "It's that girl." She whispered, Martin opening his eyes and stared at the ceiling. "She's coming this way."

"What –"

"Um… excuse me?" Martin's eyes snapped to the source of the voice, he turned to the girl, surprised to see a tiny Breton standing above him. She had scorch marks on her armor, and a fresh wound on her cheek, Martin guessed that she was the girl from the Imperial city that had been mentioned. "Are you Martin?"

"You're the girl who came to help us?" Martin sat up and stood, she nodded hesitantly,

"You closed the Oblivion gate, and drove the Daedra back. Well done." Lucia patted her arm, "Remind me of meself when I was your age."

"It was nothing…" she rubbed her nose, Martin thought he saw a faint blush on her face.

"Thank you, we're in your debt." He smiled gently at her, but it disappeared quickly as she averted her eyes and looked towards the floor.

"You're Martin? The priest?"

"Yes, I'm a priest." He scowled, "Do you need a priest? I don't think I'd be much help to you, I'm having a little trouble understanding the god's right now."

"Martin!" Lucia whacked his shoulder,

"Come off it Lucia." He snarled, "If there is a Divine Plan… I'm not so sure I want any part of it." He shook his head, he could tell just by looking at her that her errand to Kvatch was not to simply help the people there, but at her own convenience. "Don't play me a fool, what is it you want of me?"

"The Emperor sent me –"

"The Emperor is _dead_." He snapped, "All his heirs are dead… I fear that our Gods may have abandoned us."

"The…the Emperor is dead?" Lucia looked confused, "When did this happen?!" she shrilled,

"Just a week ago." The girl explained, "I'm sorry, I don't mean to add to an already stressful situation. God's or not we need your help, Brother Martin."

"My help? What are you talking about?" asked Martin, Lucia's pupils dilated, and she swallowed hard, "I prayed to Akatosh throughout that terrible night, and _no one_ came." Martin didn't know who she was, or what she wanted, but he was in no mood for her games. Her attire differed from the Kvatch guard, and she carried only a small ebony dagger, an ebony bow, and about two dozen silver arrows. Her armor was black leather, and it hugged her body tightly, Martin recognized it from his wanderings between the cities, meeting elusive men in the shadows and watching chaos follow them. She was from the Dark Brotherhood, and judging by her stance she was well equipped to deal with a few daedra.

"Uriel knew you were in danger." She pursed her lips, the dark leather armor on her body shifted slightly as she put her hands on her hips, "He sent me to find you, why do you think the daedra came here?" Martin, slightly intrigued by her motives, pressed on her, Lucia grabbed his shoulder,

"Martin, don't trust her –"

"Why would they come here for me?" he asked, the girl paused and hesitated before standing straight and looking him in the eyes. She could tell he was still terrified and angry, but she spoke anyway. "What could you possibly say to help me make sense of all of this?"

"You're his son."

"_Emperor_ Uriel Septim? You think the Emperor is my father?" Martin was incredulous, his eyes widened and his hands rose in front of him defensively, "No, you must have the wrong man. I'm a priest of Akatosh, my father was a farmer."

"The daedra knew you were here, somehow, they were here to _kill you_, Brother Martin." She stepped closer, Martin swallowed hard at her insistence. He couldn't decide if it was sincerity, or if she was trying to fool him to leave with her so she could kill him. Martin was more curious than concerned, noticing a strange yellow tint in her eyes, and sharpness to her teeth.

"You spoke to Uriel Septim before he died?" asked Martin, "He asked you to come and find… _me_?"

"Why would I lie to you, Brother Martin?" she pursed her full lips at him, her pale skin seemed to glow in the murky darkness. She seemed almost sickly, there were dark rings beneath her eyes and her lips were pale and chapped.

"I don't know… it's strange, but I believe you may be speaking the truth." Martin fell back onto the pew, strangely wounded by the astonishing message she had just given him in his tired and weak state. "But what does this mean?" he looked up at her wearily, she stood there patiently, "What do you want of me?"

"Please, come with me to Weynon Priory, Brother. Come meet Jauffree, he can explain everything to you." Martin looked around the room, at the citizens being carefully escorted out of the chapel and to safety, and then towards the girl before him. "Please?"

"I don't even know your _name_."

"Ne Quin-al." She stated, nodding politely, he blanched,

"…That's a name I've only heard in Elsweyr –"

"Will you come with me, or not?" Ne Quin-al pressed, Martin nodded slowly, and hesitantly.

"Yes… I will go with you."

"Thank you." She sighed, relieved, "Is there anything you need before we leave?"

"Yes." he glanced at Lucia, who looked absolutely frightened, "Lucia… I… I don't know what to say –"

"Go with her." She agreed, "That girl is as timid as a mouse, she'll need you."

"I'm not so sure about that." He looked down at Clavicus, biting his lip, then to the girl. "Lead on."

"Hurry, we have to get you out of here and to safety." She paused as he did, and looked back at Lucia.

"I'll come back for you, Lucia."

"Akatosh bless you, my boy. Now go, and you," she looked cross as she pointed to Ne Quin-al, "If he gets hurt, I'll have your pretty little head on a pike."


	2. The Orc

It wasn't until the smell of burning flesh and smoke had left his nostrils did they pause, and Ne Quin-al leaned against a tree to catch her breath. They were about a mile outside of Kvatch at that point, the sky was marked by the smoke from the city. Martin too had to catch his breath, it'd been some time since he'd had fresh air and now he savored it. Ne Quin-al recovered quickly and motioned Martin to follow her, and she was silent as she walked. For hours they walked, neither one of them said a word, Martin was maddened by the silence, and kicked at rocks and hummed quietly to himself to ease his tensions. It was only when Ne Quin-al stumbled did they pause, and she fell forwards onto her hands and knees.

"Ne Quin-al!" she tried to get to her feet but slipped and fell again, "Are you alright?" he kneeled beside her, and made to lift her onto her feet when her hand flew out and pushed him gently away.

"I can stand." She mumbled, pulling herself to her feet. Martin seemed unbelieving,

"When was the last time you slept? Or ate?" he asked, she shook her head, reaching into her satchel and pulling an apple out of it. She pulled a knife out as well,

"I'm alright…" She sliced the apple in half, handing him one of them. "Tonight we'll most likely be sleeping on the road, but when we reach the Imperial City we'll stop for supplies and a room for the night."

"Will we be safe out here in the meantime?"

"Highway patrols have been doubled because of Kvatch, and I'll stay up to watch." She swallowed the apple in her mouth, "There's an Ayleid ruin nearby, maybe we can clear it out and sleep there for the night…"

"Are you sure you're alright?"

"Yes, yes…" she waved it away, continuing her steady pace down the road. Martin followed close at her heels,

"So… how did you get into all this?" he asked, she shrugged, saying nothing. "By the way you talked about the Emperor, it seemed as though you yourself spoke to him."

"I did." She spit her apple seeds into a bush nearby, Martin hadn't even bitten into his piece yet. Martin waited for her to say more, but she didn't, and he began to gnaw lightly on his apple wedge. The walked until dusk, Martin noticed her gate slowing until they paused just outside of an Ayleid ruin. "Here we are…"

"Is it safe?"

"I doubt it, I cleared it out even before we came here, but others may have moved in, in the short time I was away." She pointed to the road, "Stay here, find some cover in the trees but stay near the road."

"Why? I can come inside and help you."

"I can't risk it, the same assassin's that killed Emperor Uriel could have holed up here and waited for us."

"I see… how am I any safer out here?"

"Imperial Foresters and Legion Soldiers have been patrolling this road heavily since the attack on Kvatch. You'll be safe." She drew her bow, "I'll be back, now hide and stay low." At Martin's frustrated sigh she added, "Please?"

"Yes." Martin watched her go, puzzlement and curiosity etched in his features. He noticed as she spoke, particularly when she had fallen to the road and grimaced, that her teeth were sharp. Not simply filed either, they looked natural and evenly spaced, like Kajiit or Argonian teeth. Martin scratched his head and walked off the road, to the side opposite the Ayleid ruin, and sat down on a rock nearby. He took a sharp breath after a time, feeling his pockets and at his belt. He'd left his dagger in the chapel and now he had nothing to defend himself with, save magic. He sighed, looking at his right hand, then clenched it and cast a fireball into the ground beneath him, lighting the grass and flax aflame. Martin watched it for a moment and then stomped it out and sighed again with exhaustion, a tiny fireball like that would scarcely scare away a rat, let alone a trained daedric assassin.

And who was his assassin escort, anyway? An assassin, protecting him from assassins… He couldn't decide if it was poetic, ironic, or just plain _idiotic_. And yet he agreed to go with her on the grounds that he was interested in… what? Her teeth? Her eyes? Martin slapped a hand to his forehead and dragged it down, rubbing his face in frustration and annoyance. He wished that she would actually talk to him, that would make him a little bit less suspicious, at least. And what made her think that he couldn't defend himself? He furrowed his brow, tossing another fireball into a tree nearby, then feeling little and insignificant because of it. If he had enough energy, he could have done a summoning, or a frost spell, but his fire spells and illusion spells were a little lacking, almost to the point were he barely light a candle. He had this strange talent with cold things, like frost spells and metal, but even when he fought with those things he held back somewhat. He closed his eyes and focused on his right hand, willing the chilly and unnatural cold energy to come into his fingertips. He concentrated harder and harder, until a sweat beaded on his brow, and fatigue bit at him, and finally he let the spell loose before him. Martin opened his eyes and caught his breath, the tree before him looked like a heavy frost had hit it the night before. Martin frowned at it, most of his friends were monks who lived and worked at the chapel, and all they knew were defensive alteration spells. Martin stared at his hand again,

_Why couldn't I save them?_ He summoned up the cold prickly energy, slamming it into the tree again, _If I'm so powerful, why couldn't I help them? _His hands stung with the cold, but he stood, slamming his palm into the frozen and splintering wood of the tree, anger numbing him to the freezing pain. _If they did come for me, and I'm so important, why couldn't I help them?!_ He punched the tree soundly, his knuckles bruising as they struck the frozen wood. _If I am the descendant of Talos, and the son of the Emperor, why was I not powerful enough to __save__ them?!_ He struck the tree, with a growl of anger and guilt, ripping the bark and cracking the wood, the skin on his knuckles splitting open.

Martin would have kept assaulting the tree if it hadn't been for the fatigue in his body, which made him have to support himself against the tree, lest his knees buckle. He eased himself backwards onto the rock behind him, then onto the ground so he could sit behind it and remain hidden from the road. Before long, Martin felt himself nodding off, the light in the sky dimming and the two moons in the sky slowly climbing into view. He began to worry a little bit that Ne Quin-al hadn't returned yet, but as he peeked out around the rock he was sitting against, he saw her dark figure against the white stone of the Ayleid ruin, leaping down into the grass. He looked around before standing, and glancing up and down the road before hurrying over to see her. She began picking up twigs and dry branches, not noticing Martin approaching behind her,

"Ne Quin-al?" she looked over her shoulder at him, bending over to lift a rotted and crumbling branch, "Do you need help?"

"No thank you, Brother Martin." She said quietly, turning back to her gathering, he stood there for a moment, feeling a little useless, "I already have a fire going inside, you can go and rest if you like." Martin sidestepped to he could see her face… and not have her rear end be the only thing he could look at and talk to.

"Was it much trouble clearing it out? Are you sure that you're –"

"Please, my Lord Septim." She glanced at him quickly, not turning her head very much, "Please go inside, it's safer." Martin cringed at the name she had given him, and was tempted to correct her, but felt too tired to handle the situation properly. So, he resigned himself to going inside the ruins, but when he turned, he heard her voice again. "There's another set of robes for you on your bedroll, and the chamber farther inside is flooded by an underground spring, if you wish to bathe."

"Oh, thank you." Martin didn't turn, angered slightly by her emotionless mannerisms. She didn't seem to care about him too much, she didn't crack a smile or a frown, but then again he never saw her face for very long because of that damn leather hood she was always wearing. He shoved the door open, letting it slam shut loudly as he plodded down the stairs inside and followed the hallway down into the main chamber. She hadn't lied about the robe, or the spring, and he did bathe quickly before returning to the main chamber and undressing. Martin pulled the robes on quickly, for fear of getting chilled by the stale and musky air, but still questioned where she had gotten the Conjuror's robes from. He sniffed his last set of robes, and cringed, one week of sweat, blood, and ash made them smell like goblin crotch. He tossed them into the fire in front of him, and when he heard the door leading outside of the ruin open, he waited silently and impatiently for Ne Quin-al to walked down the steps. She did so cautiously, and threw the pile of sticks and brush down onto the ground next to her bedroll. She sat down almost immediately, blinking and rubbing her eyes with her closed fists,

"I apologize if I seem short with you, Brother Martin." She stated, Martin nodded, "I noticed your concern for me, I appreciate it." Martin said nothing, just stared into the fire, watching the flames rise up and twitch. "Are you hungry?" He shrugged, and she took that as an affirmation of said hunger. Ne Quin-al took out two or three apples, cut one in half, then tossed a whole apple at him. He caught it, "There isn't much else for food, I have a loaf of bread but I want to save that until we travel tomorrow. We should reach the Imperial City by nightfall." Martin still remained quiet, but noticed that her shoulders slumped with disappointment at his silence. He let his gaze go to her face, as she suddenly started to cough, and he was tempted to throw a healing spell at her when she practically wretched with the intensity of her coughing fit. She bit into her apple desperately, the juices and fruity flesh easing her coughing, and he saw her looking sadly into the flames. When her mouth opened again, he paid close attention to her lips, and her lips alone. "I'm…" she paused, running her fingers back through her hair, pushing her hood down accidentally. Martin blinked at seeing long and pointed ears poking through her short, black, wind bound hair, and she noticed his eyes widening at her appearance. Ne Quin-al pulled her hood back up, her face flushing with embarrassment, "I'm sorry." She blurted, Martin was puzzled,

"About what?" he asked, she averted her eyes, and said nothing, "…About… your ears?" Ne Quin-al looked at him briefly then away again.

"…I'm not good with people. Especially people I don't know." She admitted, "I'm not used to strange people being nice to me." Martin remained respectfully silent, but nodded to show her that he was listening. "I know that you don't trust me completely, I can see it in your face."

"It would help if I knew you better." Said Martin.

"I know…" she looked at the floor, hugging her knees to her chest. Her voice was lighter and more elegant than all the other Breton girls that Martin had met, she sounded more regal than the others, if that was even possible. It was silent for a time, Martin threw his apple core into the fire, and Ne Quin-al seemed to get more and more withdrawn and nervous when Martin sighed and looked at her again, she had coughed once or twice more.

"May I ask you something, Ne Quin-al?"

"…You can call me Quinn." She said softly, he heard a slight wheezing in her voice, "And yes, you can ask me whatever you want."

"Where are you from?" he asked, she looked hesitant.

"Elsweyr." She averted her eyes, her voice becoming softer and softer as she spoke, "You want to know what I am, don't you?"

"Only out of curiosity." Martin said quickly, "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

"…It's alright." She lifted her hand, and very slowly pushed her hood down, exposing her large and pointed ears. "My mother was a half breed, half Breton, and half Kajiit." She looked sadly up at Martin, "My father's name is Ya'Tirrje, you may have heard of him." Martin was surprised that, after an entire afternoon of silence, this dark minded assassin was talking to him about her drug lord father, and her ancestry of half-breeds. Her face was paler than it should have been, even for a Breton, she looked sickly and tired.

"A lord of sugar, in his own right." Martin nodded, "I have heard of him."

"Yes… wealthy with exotic tastes in women." She looked at the ground, "My mother was a whore, there's no kind way to say it, but my father took her in all the same when he realized that she was pregnant. When she died he kept me secret, didn't want anyone to know that his daughter looked like a Breton." she put her hands to her pale cheeks, "I ran away when I got old enough to carry a sword, I couldn't take the screaming and the hitting…"

"I'm sorry." Said Martin, sympathetically. "Why did he do that to you?"

"He expected me to look like a normal Kajiit, like my mother." said Quinn, "I'm surprised I don't… I was just a freak accident, I suppose."

"Looking the way you do isn't an accident." Martin snorted, Quinn looked thoughtful, "It just happened, that's all."

"If I have children of my own I suspect they'll be Kajiit. But mainly people think that I'm a pale wood elf. Until they see my teeth of course." She lifted her lips to expose her sharp teeth, Martin nodded, "So, that is what I am." She did look like an elf, but with the soft and elegant features of a Breton. If there ever to be a half breed, Martin couldn't think of a better combination, he felt no remorse in noticing how beautiful she was.

"My mother was a Breton as well… or at least I thought she was my mother." said Martin, feeling a sort of kinship in the fact that they were both a little bit lost.

"I don't know the details, but the Emperor himself brought you to Jauffree so that he could hide you away and keep you safe." Said Quinn, "Jauffree will most likely know more, he could tell you."

"I hope she was my real mother. If what you say is true."

"You still don't believe me?"

"I think that you believe what the Emperor and Jauffree told you, and I trust you better now. I'm going to at least hear Jauffree out." Martin laid back on his bedroll, "It's all so strange."

"What is, Brother Martin?" out of the corner of his eye, he saw her lay down on her back, her head on it's side so she could look at him.

"One moment I'm a pious priest of Akatosh… the next I'm the last heir to the Dragon throne."

"One moment I'm an assassin." Quinn mimicked, confirming Martin's suspicions about her ties to the Dark Brotherhood. She yawned deeply, stretching, "The next, I'm protecting the next heir to the throne from other assassins. Is it poetic, ironic, or idiotic?" Martin glanced over at her as she closed her eyes, her lips slightly parted as her body started to relax. Martin, suddenly aware of the fact that he was staring far too long at the girl next to him, looked away slowly.

"I can't tell yet."

"Hmm…" she sighed, then yawned again, "I should stay awake…"

"You're better off going to sleep, Quinn. I doubt I'm going to get any sleep tonight, I'll wake you if something happens." She didn't respond right away, and when she did Martin felt a little bit more at ease.

"Good night, Brother Martin."

"Just call me 'Martin'." Martin chuckled, he could hear the wheezing in her breathing still, as she fell asleep.

"…Martin…" she mumbled, he looked at her again, "Good night."

* * *

Martin hadn't had a dream as vivid and graphic since he was a boy, and even then it wasn't as … intense. When he started to have them when he was older he would always wake himself up and shove urges like that to the back of his mind. But this… he felt so attached to the person with him, so connected and loving that he couldn't bear wake himself from it. He wanted it to be real, but then he remembered his duty to Akatosh and began pulling himself away from it, and when he awoke he did so slowly. He promptly fell asleep again, falling right back into the dream and back into longing for the same warmth and love in the dream. He noticed the woman that he was with was wearing an amulet, though he couldn't distinguish who this was because her face was blurred, but he did recognize the jewelry around her neck. It was the Amulet of Kings, the amulet of the Emperor himself.

It was then that Martin forced himself awake, with such intensity that he bolted awake and sat up, panting and sweating. He looked to his left, finding Quinn missing from her bed, but he could hear her having another coughing fit outside the ruins. Martin immediately stood and followed the sound outside, finding the girl standing in the dark, staring upwards at the sky.

"Quinn?" he called, she turned to him,

"Brother Martin? What are you doing up?"

"I heard you coughing." He lied, "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine…" she shook her head, tucking some hair behind her ear, "You should go back to sleep."

"I don't think I can." He shrugged, folding his arms over his chest and staring up at the sky. The moons were full and shone brightly on the ground, casting the tree's shadows across the ground,

"…I see." She nodded, looking away. "You should still go inside."

"Why?" asked Martin, suddenly wary of the fact that she didn't want him near her. She said nothing, and he was slightly confused, "Quinn?"

"…I can't have you hurt." She still stared at the ground,

"Oh?" Martin raised an eyebrow,

"Assassin's are looking all over for the last heir to the throne, you're in danger just by being out here." He wasn't convinced,

"And yet we're going to a heavily populated city, where the danger is even greater?" asked Martin,

"There are heavily armed guards through the City, and you will have me with you the entire time." Quinn assured, "Here they could be hiding anywhere, and it only takes an arrow, Brother Martin." She reminded, looking up at him, her green eyes sparkled in the moonlight. It only took Martin a few seconds to make up his mind onto whether or not he'd stay out and confront her about her strange behavior, or to leave her outside, and when he did he nodded,

"I understand, Ne Quin-al. I won't make your job any harder by letting myself become damaged goods." He bowed politely, "Good night to you, then."

"I…" she began, he paused before turning and walking inside, seeing her apologetic face. "…Goodnight."

* * *

The Morning came too soon for Martin, who was slightly wary of seeing his shy assassin counterpart. She was asleep when he awoke, and he took the opportunity to run down to the spring and splash cold water on his face. He felt somewhat sympathetic to the girl, but he wished that she'd treat him more like a person than a parcel she was delivering, but he couldn't figure out why he felt so insulted by the behavior. Martin sat in thought for a minute or two, contemplating the dreams he had had the night before, and his obligations to the Nine Divines. It would be difficult to maintain his status as a priest when he had run around killing things in order to save himself and the Empire he lived in. And wouldn't he be a better servant of Akatosh if he took on the role of Emperor? Half of him wanted it to be a lie, but the other half of him had known something was strange about his upbringing and adult life. Something had always been missing, about his looks and the way his father and mother treated him, they always treated him like he was better than them, like he deserved more than them. And he didn't look like his father, his father was blonde, and his mother had raven black hair, so his pale skin, his blue eyes, and his brown hair seemed strange to him. Martin sighed, and when he heard faint footsteps behind him he quickly wiped his face on his sleeve and stood. Not turning to the figure behind him.

"Are we leaving now, Ne Quin-al?" when he heard no response, only a ragged and low breath, he turned abruptly and backed up a few steps. "Oh no…" The Orc looked angry, in one hand he held a large glass battle axe, in the other he held an Elven shortsword. His pallid face was wrought with sweat and blood, pain was etched on his features, and yet there was a fierce joy in his eyes.

"… Did you come for a bath, Imperial?" it jabbed the shortsword at him, "Did you bring that little Breton whore with you?!"

"Calm yourself… I meant you no harm, she only…" Martin felt his insides seize with dread at seeing the Orc's red eyes, and his teeth coated with blood. "By the Nine… you're a –"

"A what?" the Orc sneered, jabbing Martin cruelly with the blade. Martin grimaced as it sliced his arm open, but bit his lip. "What am I, you Imperial pig?!"

"You're a Vampire." He mumbled, he saw the blood dripping from the Orc's mouth as it smirked, probably had killed one of it's compatriots to survive, he looked like the Vampire Patriarch, his clothes were rich and the Cuirass he wore was the rare Indoril of Vivec city in Morrowind. Martin swallowed hard, this Orc was well armed and skilled, Ne Quin-al had brought him right into a Vampire den, and had apparently killed most of them without a thought.

"And what're you, Imperial?" It licked the blood off of the sword, Martin cringed as it then put a thin slice into its throat, wiping his mouth with his fingers.

"Me?"

"Do you know what you are?" he smiled, putting the blade up to Martin's neck. Martin froze completely, not wanting to move suddenly and cut himself on the blade slick with this Vampire's blood. He fought to remain calm,

"I am a priest of Akatosh." Martin stated, the Orc chuckled,

"No… you're cattle." It spat, "Say it."

"I'm…" Martin clenched his teeth, willing his legs to move, "I'm… cattle…" he snarled, he felt the feeling return to his legs.

"That's right… you're _lunch_." It opened its mouth wide, showing its fangs, and lunged at Martin. But its teeth met only air, and instead of getting a mouthful of hot flesh and sweet silky blood it tripped and fell forwards, slamming into the floor beneath it, growling with rage. He found the priest gone and running top speed up the stairs towards the entrance to the Ayleid ruin. Martin was halfway up the winding staircase when he felt the stone crumble beneath his right foot, and he stumbled and slammed his elbow into the corner of a stone stair. He pulled himself up farther as he heard the war axe whizzing through the air, and shatter as it slammed into the stone beside Martin's leg.

"_Shit!_" he cursed, he felt the Orc's hand grab hold of his ankle, and he pulled himself upwards desperately. He kicked out at the Orc, planting his foot firmly into his face and shoving. When the Orc reeled Martin swung his hand back and threw a small fireball at him, making the Orc shriek with rage and pain. It clutched at it's burning face, but did not release Martin's leg, only dug his sharp nails into his calf, Martin grimaced and let out a cry of agony,

"I'll rip you into _pieces!_" the Orc roared, Martin struggled harder, but the enraged and supernaturally powerful Orc pulled itself up and made to grab Martin's arm. Martin flung another flare at the Vampire, only angering it more.

"_Quinn!_" he shouted, it echoed up the empty stairwell as the Orc got on top of him, pinning him down, "_Quinn_!" If only he had a _sword_ –

"She's not coming for you." It breathed, yanking Martin's head back, and put the shortsword to his throat, Martin clenched his fists and shut his eyes tightly. "Call out to your god now, priest, and try to run away from me now!" Martin didn't move, "I'm going to eat your guts, and use your _skin as a new cloak_!" Another hand came up and wrapped around his throat, squeezing so Martin couldn't breathe. They both paused as a voice rang out,

"Brother Martin!" Martin opened his eyes, his vision slightly blurred from lack of oxygen, but he could see the string of her bow was drawn, "Duck!"

"Wha –" The vampire grunted, Martin forced the cold energy of a frost spell into his elbow, and slammed it into the Orc's ribs, getting a loud growl of pain from the Vampire. Martin did duck, tucking his head as close to the floor as possible, feeling the arrow's plume brush against the back of his head as it reached the Orc, burying itself deep into his forehead. The Orc fell back a bit, standing on its knees behind Martin for a moment before tumbling backwards down the stairs. Martin looked down after him at hearing an angry shriek from below, and Quinn grabbed Martin by the scruff of his robes and pulled him up.

"Run!" she ordered, turning tail and darting away, Martin began to run, but paused, turned around, and snatched up the shortsword the Orc had dropped, ripping the Vampire's belt and scabbard off of him before running back up the staircase. He was far behind Quinn now, and when the Breton paused her Imperial counterpart had managed to slip the belt on, and slip the Elven short sword into it's scabbard while running from the two other Orc Vampires, a High Elf Vampire bard, and a Bosmer Vampire Archer. She waited for him to catch up before running again, snatching up her traveling pack and kicking the hot cinders of their fire at their pursuers. Martin slammed his shoulder into the door to the ruin, shoving it open, and when Quinn had darted through he slammed it shut, holding it firmly shut and muttering under his breath, "Brother Martin, come on! We have to go!"

"Just a moment…" he felt the door heave suddenly, a Vampire had slammed into it. A bright white flash struck the door, and suddenly it was frozen in place, Martin took a few steps back as it cracked and splintered. Quinn let out a small exclamation of surprise. "It'll slow them down, hurry!" he grabbed her by the hand and dragged her along, and she came willingly. They ran and ran, stopping only when Quinn started to wheeze and cough, and she stopped where she was. She bent over and retched, throwing up what little food she had eaten the night before, "Quinn!" Martin skidded to a halt and limped back to her, "What's wrong? What happened?"

"Nothing…" she shook her head, "Got… I got a little light headed…"

"Are you sure you're all right?"

"Yeah…" she swallowed, standing straight, "Do you think we lost them?"

"It's hard to say, they probably haven't even broken through the ice yet." Martin sighed, panting as he caught his breath.

"So… now there's a change of plans…" she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "We'll stay in Skingrad tonight, and restock on supplies."

"Alright." Martin nodded,

"We'll run the rest of the way there, if those beasts caught our scent they'll follow us into hell if they have to." She took a step forwards, her pale skin dampened by a slight sweat, Martin was beginning to notice her sickly characteristics, and it worried him. "Let's go."


	3. The Hand of the Night Mother

They did run, throughout the rest of the Morning and on into the late afternoon, until Quinn paused again and bent over, placing her hands on her knees and gasping for air. Martin, who had been confined to the town for the past week, and had not exerted any physical strain like that in almost five years, swooned as he came to a stop. He leaned against a tree, completely out of breath and his legs aching, and he felt his stomach lurch. When he bent over and vomited, Quinn immediately stood up straight and ran to him as he retched,

"It's all right…" she put a reassuring hand on his shoulder as he spit up the leftover bile and caught his breath. "I didn't have anything to throw up, otherwise I would have, running like that really takes it out of a person." He spit a few more times before wiping his mouth with his sleeve, "Let's go into town, we both need food and rest now."

"It's only midday, though."

"We've used all our energy, we'll set off tomorrow afternoon." She informed him, when he stood straight she averted her eyes again and walked towards the town. Martin became slightly suspicious again at that, but it faded as a small wood elf approached her, "Oh, hello Glarthier."

"Good Afternoon Naga, I didn't expect you to be in town today." He wore a russet felt outfit, and his hair was unbrushed and stuck up at odd angles, Martin immediately knew by the Bosmer's twitching and quick unsteady speech that he was… different. He was also curious about how the Wood Elf had referred to Ne Quin-al,

"I didn't either, what do you need?"

"I have a favor to ask, but I can't talk about it here, it has to do with Bernadette –"

"I already told you, Glarthier, she wasn't following you."

"I know, but I saw her the other day –"

"_Alright_, I'll meet you behind the church at eleven, like usual."

"Good! Please, just hear me out this time, I'm absolutely sure that she's following me!" He whispered, then quickly darted away without another word to Quinn, who growled in frustration.

"'Naga'?" asked Martin, Quinn shrugged,

"I've got a few names," she admitted, Martin nodded and began a slow pace towards her, "Why're you limping?"

"Oh, the Orc –"

"Let me see." Quinn looked, "By Sithis, look at all this blood!" She dragged him away, "Come on!"

* * *

Only when she'd wrapped his wound, ingested two apples, half a loaf of bread, and half a sweetcake did Ne Quin-al sit back in her chair and yawn. Martin had barely finished his sweetroll by the time she stood up and motioned for him to do the same,

"How good are you with a blade, Brother Martin?"

"Mleph?" he asked, his mouth full of pastry, this actually got a smile and a laugh from Quinn, which he nearly choked at.

"Yes, you. I'd feel better if you could defend yourself." She grinned still, then closed her mouth into a frown when she got strange looks from a Dunmer man nearby. Quinn seemed to pull back and become distant as quickly as she had opened up, Martin suddenly understood his shy escort.

"I can." Martin snorted, "It's been some time, though."

"Alright… I have an errand to run in an hour or two, I was going to do it in a week or so but… eh…" she shrugged, and blushed gently before shaking her head. "I'll get you a room, you rest up and I'll wake you when I come back… Is that alright?"

"It's fine, where are you going?"

"Summitmist Manor, I have meet a colleague of mine who's hosting a party." She cleared her throat, and while Martin stuffed the last of his sweetroll into his mouth she paid the Innkeeper for the room and pointed upstairs,

"What's the nature of this party?"

"Oh, sort of a Whodunit, actually…"

"A what?"

"Nothing… bit of a game…" Quinn shrugged and blushed harder, Martin guessed it was because the Dunmer had followed them up and was heading to his own room, glancing into their room curiously. "Anyway, keep an eye on people around you, and please don't leave the Inn."

"Why?"

"Please, just don't." she backed out into the hallway, and looked to her left at the Dunmer, who'd been eyeing her suspiciously. "I'll be back in a few hours, don't come looking for me."

"I'll stay here." Martin assured her, she nodded quickly before running away from the Dunmer's piercing gaze. Martin raised an eyebrow at the elf, who cleared his throat as looked away, fiddling with the doorknob to his room. "Is there a problem?"

"Who?" he pointed to himself, "Me? No, no problems."

"Good."

"She's a good looking Breton, isn't she?" asked the Dunmer, Martin nodded, "Is she with you?"

"Me?" Martin asked, baffled, "I'm a _priest_."

"Oh! What's her name?" asked the Dunmer, Martin didn't like his tone too much, he wasn't sure why he'd become so impatient and angry with the Dark Elf. He remained polite to cover up his irrational anger.

"Her name is Naga." Said Martin, using the false name she'd given to Glarthier.

"Huh, have to buy her a drink when she comes back… Who're you, stranger?"

"Oh… I'm…" he paused, "I'm Brother Magus, she's escorting me from Kvatch to the Imperial City."

"I see, I heard a little Breton saved the city, was it her?"

"Actually she's a Bosmer."

"Really? Didn't look like one."

"Her hood covered up her ears… I'm sorry, forgive my rudeness, I didn't even ask your name."

"I'm Mingan Telvanni, just traveled here from Morrowind to visit a cousin." He shrugged, "How long are you folks staying here?"

"Only a day or so."

"So she's keeping you in here? What for?"

"Overprotective and paranoid." Martin said, meaning every word, "She's very distant, one minute she's laughing, the next she's looking away and…" Martin paused at a realization, seeing the humor and embarrassment behind her blushing. Mingan started to giggle evilly,

"Ah, you noticed, huh?" Mingan chuckled, "Probably thinks you're good looking."

"Oh." Martin furrowed his brow, "Strange…" he rubbed his chin gently, Mingan still smiled cheerily,

"Well… I must be off, Tuwile will have my head if I'm late."

"Right."

"Good afternoon, Brother Magus."

"Good afternoon… oh!" He bit his lip, "Can you tell me where Summitmist manor is?"

* * *

Martin threw on a black cloak to cover up the blue color of his robes, then as he left the Inn he pulled the hood up so his face couldn't be identified in the darkening evening air. He passed by Mingan on the way out of the Inn, and when the Dunmer didn't recognize him he quickly ran across the town to the manor with better confidence. He spotted guards eyeing him suspiciously, which made him a little nervous, but he continued on anyway. His leg hurt less now, but it was s still a hindrance, and he limped along quickly, annoyed. He passed by a figure in long black robes and hood, leaning against a wall near a giant stately manor, Martin edged closer, guessing the figure to be Quinn, and the manor to be Summitmist. Martin wasn't a fool, he knew that she was most likely fulfilling a contract for the Dark Brotherhood, but when the figure lifted it's head to look at him, he was slightly put off when he realized it was an Imperial man with pale skin, and evil eyes. Martin only glanced at him briefly, and looked away quickly, but he heard the man stand up straight and start to come towards him.

Martin began to quicken his pace, but when he glanced upwards he paused directly in the middle of the street. It was quiet, outside the manor an older Nord man stood with a torch blazing in his hand, illuminating the figure beside him. She was small and lean, with black wind bound hair and pale skin. The black and red dress on her body made her skin brighter, the front was normal, but the rear exposed the skin of her back, all the way down to her hips. Martin blinked and looked again to be sure of who this mysterious beauty was, and he swallowed hard as the man stood in front of him and blocked his view.

"Going somewhere, priest?" the other Imperial grabbed him by the arm, "You should be resting."

"Do I know you?" Martin asked, quietly, watching the woman walk into the manor,

"Quinn does, that should be enough." The man said softly, Martin swallowed again as the woman appeared in the street again, having done a double take at seeing the two figures in the road together. She quickly trotted over, the black suede shoes making her footfalls silent. Martin bit his lip and averted his eyes, heat rising in his chest as the Imperial man stepped to the side and nodded his head respectfully at the woman before them.

"Brother Martin?" she sounded worried, Martin swallowed again, clenching his fists as the heat coming into his face, "It is you!" Quinn sighed, "I thought I told you to stay at the Inn?"

"You did." Martin admitted, Quinn rolled her eyes, Martin noticed the gown on her body was black silk, a silver amulet hung around her neck with a ruby at its center. It touched her skin, almost blending in with how pale she was, and it hung just above the slight amount of cleavage the corset of the dress gave her. Martin looked away,

"I spotted him on his way over, I figured he was looking for you." The Imperial shrugged, Quinn nodded,

"Thank you, Arbo, just get him back to our room so he can rest. I'll talk to him in the morning." She turned showing them the milky white skin of her back again, Martin noticed the small silver chain around her waist, and the rubies that hung from it and emphasized the motion of her hips as she walked away.

"Yes, my lady." Arboghast bowed politely, at her retreating back. "You'd best walk, priest."

"And be _nice_ to him." Quinn frowned, over her shoulder, glancing back at them, "Brother Martin don't worry about me, and please don't wander off again!" Martin nodded sheepishly, and was then dragged by Arboghast back to the Inn.

"You're lucky, Lucien would normally gut anyone that upsets Quinn." Arboghast stated, Martin nodded, "You should do as she says, she may be quiet but she knows what she's doing."

"She told you to look out for me, didn't she?"

"She did." Arbo nodded, "Mingan let me know you were on your way."

"_Mingan_? The Dark Elf?"

"Yup." Arbo nodded, "She sent a courier last night from Kvatch telling us about her assignment, that we should help her. Lucien agreed, and so a handful of us are keeping an ear out for information."

"I see." Martin nodded again, Arboghast sighed,

"Head to bed, Priest, I'll be down here keeping an eye on things 'til she comes back."

"I'm not sure I'll be able to sleep." Martin scratched his head, Arbo nodded,

"I don't sleep at all, let me buy you a drink."

"I don't drink… I can't."

"Well, keep me company then, I _need_ a drink." It was some time before Martin said anything at all, Arboghast was quiet too, "She's beautiful, isn't she?" Martin's face flushed, and he looked up at Arboghast curiously,

"…Yes. She is."

"I've known her for a long time, since she joined the Brotherhood." Arbo drained his mug of mead, "Lucien was hell-bent on getting her in, she was only about sixteen at the time. And go figure, the one time she gets caught she gets sent to jail when the _Emperor_ visits the prison. She's got luck, tell you that."

"How old is she now?"

"Oh… early twenties I think, about twenty five now…" Arboghast shrugged, "I've been in this guild twenty years, and she's got double the body count that I have."

"She's good at what she does?"

"Quinn does all sorts of things." Arbo grinned, "She's the head of the Fighter's Guild, did she tell you that?" Martin blanched,

"No."

"She uses false names and spells to cover her teeth and such, she's damn close to being Arch Mage too, Lucien's been having her infiltrate the guilds, but she got that far on her own."

"All of this done in under ten years?"

"Yup, she got here when she was around ten, and then she was brought in after she killed an Imperial guard."

"Why?"

"Oh, 'guards', they were trying to rape her." Said Arboghast, Martin cringed, "Lucien was smitten on the spot, loves the girl like his own daughter."

"Who's Lucien?"

"If you need to know, you'll find out." Arbo winked, "Everyone loves her, but she's a shy little thing, doesn't talk much." Martin didn't reply as Quinn's small form walked through the door, "Ah, my lady! You've returned early?"

"Yes…" she looked slightly pained, Arbo immediately stood, "It was an easy job… Arbo why don't you find Mingan and run ahead to the Imperial City?"

"Yes my lady, are you alright?"

"I'm fine… just tired. It's been a long day." She waved him away, "Get to the city, and we'll meet you in the Merchant's Inn within a few days time. Stay there unless you get orders otherwise." Arbo nodded, surprised at her directness.

"See you around, Priest." He waved briefly before disappearing out the door, Quinn sat slowly in the chair beside Martin, grabbing a grape off of the plate Arbo had abandoned.

"Care to explain yourself?" she asked, Martin shrugged,

"There's nothing to explain."

"So you walked into danger on a whim, then?"

"You could say that."

"Brother Martin, weren't you listening to me before?" Quinn frowned, "I told you to stay here!" she ate the grape sadly, Martin really wished that she'd go and change into something unflattering, he was really starting to feel funny around her. "I told you, 'It only takes an arrow', I wasn't lying!" she put her hand to her forehead, taking a few deep breaths,

"I'm sorry, Quinn."

"I understand you don't trust me because of my trade, it's something I'm used to." Said Quinn gently, "I know my duty to the Empire, and I owe…" she paused, "Oh…" her eyelids fluttered gently, and she shook her head.

"Quinn?" Martin suddenly became aware of her swooning, but she continued anyway.

"I'm in debt to him, I have to…" she stood from her chair, balancing against the table, "I'm sorry Martin, I can't…"

"Quinn, come on," he stood, "I can see that you're not well, I'm sorry I stressed you this much." He put his hand on her shoulder, "Let's go back upstairs, you need rest –"

"I'm alright." She motioned him away, "I owe Uriel, I… have to save…" she teetered, Martin rushed forwards as she fell, catching her before she hit the ground.

"Quinn!" he lifted her easily, she weighed almost nothing, and her head lolled lazily on his shoulder, her eyes fluttered again before closing.

"I have to save you…" she mumbled, Martin watched in pure sympathy and sadness as tears started falling from her closed eyes, "I couldn't save him…"


	4. The Emperor

_It was when Uriel stumbled and nearly fell that Baurus finally let the prisoner rush up and help him. Ne Quin-al eased him to his feet gently, and was then shooed away by the younger Blade, Uriel motioned her closer again against Baurus's will._

_"You move with grace and speed, but there's almost and empty void behind your eyes." He said softly, Ne Quin-al said nothing, "But not so empty, is it? Not as empty as you would like."_

_"Please, your Majesty we must go –" Baurus tried, but Uriel stumbled again,_

_"I'm an old man, Baurus, I can only stand for so long." He huffed,_

_"Alright, your Highness, but we can't rest for long." Glenroy snorted, Uriel raised an eyebrow at him as he walked away, "You, prisoner!" Ne Quin-al simply glanced at him, "Keep away from the Emperor –"_

_"She's not part of this." Uriel shook his head, sitting gently on a large stone block that had dislodged itself from the wall many years before. Baurus sighed and moved farther away,_

_"The Emperor can handle himself for now, let her be." He muttered to the other Blade. Ne Quin-al rubbed her nose, the itch to it annoying her so much that it actually provoked a powerful sneeze from her, making her teeter and fall on her rear. Uriel chuckled at her, and her face flushed with embarrassment,_

_"I haven't even heard your name." He ventured, Ne Quin-al swallowed hard,_

_"…Ne Quin-al." She bit her lip, Uriel paused in thought,_

_"I believe that is what the Kajiit call the full moons, am I correct?"_

_"Yes, sire."_

_"Ah… so you are from Elsweyr?"_

_"Yes." She nodded, Uriel paused for a moment, rubbing his chin in thought._

_"So odd that we would meet under these circumstances, isn't it Ne Quin-al?"_

_"…You can call me Quinn, sire."_

_"Why're you hiding, Quinn?" Uriel glanced at her, "…I know much about you from my visions, and yet they did not prepare me for the sorrow in your soul."_

_"You… you know me?"_

_"Yes, but I've only seen your role in what will come to pass, and I must say that you were… different." Uriel watched Quinn look at the floor in thought, her face darkening ever so slightly, "But you are still a child in the face of all of this."_

_"I suppose so, sire." Quinn looked up at Uriel Septim, he had stood up and was now standing by her, his hand extended._

_"We must go." He said gently, Quinn took his hand, letting him pull her to her feet, "You will know yourself by the end, of the person I spoke of –"_

_"Here they come again!" Baurus shouted, Glenroy leapt into action and Baurus joined him, leaving Quinn and the Emperor in the corner. Quinn backed into the corner, spotting two more assassins coming at them from their left out of Baurus's and Glenroy's line of vision. She gently pushed the Emperor behind her,_

_"Stay behind me, sire." She warned, he did as he was told, drawing his sword. The two assassins coming at Quinn were slow, and she easily cast a fireball at one of them, when he fell back screaming in pain, she performed a hand to hand move and palmed the other in the face, smashing his nose backwards. They came at her again, the one who was set aflame more agitated and angry than the other, Uriel began to worry slightly as Quinn let her body relax and her breathing slow. He bit his lip and made ready to push her out of the way and stab at the two assassins, but just before he was about to make his move her hand flew out, glowing and ethereal green._

_"__Flee__!" she shrieked, the spell hit the two squarely in the head, making them fall back and scream in anguish. They tripped over themselves in running away with sobbing terror, where they ran right into Baurus and Glenroy. Uriel sheathed his blade, and Quinn wiped the blood off of her left palm._

_"That was impressive, Ne Quin-al." Uriel patted her gently on the shoulder, she nodded quietly, "Hurry, before more arrive –"_

_"She can't come with us, sire." Glenroy stated, Uriel furrowed his brow,_

_"Why not?"_

_"The assassin's attacks have increased since she joined us," said Baurus, "I don't know if she's attracting more attention somehow, but –"_

_"She's probably working __with__ them." Glenroy snapped at Baurus, "She has to stay here." Baurus looked pointedly at the Emperor, and nodded. Quinn sighed,_

_"I understand." She muttered. "You can't trust me, I… I'll stay behind and slow them down."_

_"Glenroy this is idiotic," Baurus said firmly, "She protected him, there's no need –"_

_"Take __no__ chances." Quinn interrupted, Baurus clenched his teeth,_

_"Come, your Highness, we have to go." He motioned him closer, but Uriel paused._

_"Ne Quin-al," he bowed at her politely, "I'm sure that we'll meet again." Quinn nodded, "Stay alive, and fight the darkness creeping up behind you." Without another word he followed Glenroy out of the chamber they were in, Baurus nodded respectfully at Quinn before disappearing out._

* * *

_Uriel was angry, Baurus could tell, but honored Quinn's wishes and followed the Blades out of the room. The Emperor was so angry, that when yet another group of assassins appeared and swarmed them, he drew his blade and ran into the fray deliberately. He wasn't even hurt, being an experienced soldier as well, but every time he swung his blade it drained him, and every time he drew blood Baurus could see regret in his face. Uriel Septim was not a violent man, but Baurus saw change in his face when he had first seen the Breton in her holding cell._

_"Your Highness, please." Baurus whispered to Uriel, "I know the Prisoner's decision was regrettable, but you can't simply run into battle like this!"_

_"And why not?" he asked, "You think I can stand by while people protecting me __die__? I thought you knew me better Baurus."_

_"What made you do this? How is her effect on you this strong?"_

_"Ne Quin-al…" The Emperor shook his head, "I know her better than she would like to think."_

_"What's the hold up, Baurus?" Glenroy called, Uriel sighed,_

_"I envy her freedom, but not the cage she's built around herself."_

_"She knows what she's doing, you don't need to worry about her." Baurus assured,_

_"But I do, she will carry the line –"_

_"Baurus!" Glenroy interrupted the conversation, "Let's move!" Uriel hesitated before following Glenroy, "We can't stall anymore, sire, we must keep moving!" Uriel said nothing as they walked, and walked. After a time Uriel felt winded, and they had to pause to let him get his breath back, "My opinion, we should find a defensible spot and protect the Emperor until help arrives."_

_"Help?" Baurus asked incredulously, "What makes you think help will arrive before more of those bas –" A scuffle was heard from the ledges above, particularly from a tunnel high on the wall. More daedric assassin poured into the room, surrounding the three within a few seconds, Glenroy and Baurus fended them off relentlessly, but more poured in, Uriel beat them off as best as he could. "Your Highness!" Baurus tossed the keys to the sewers to him, and the Emperor caught them. "Run!"_

_"I cannot leave you behind –" he felt an assassin's boot connect with his chest, and he fell back,_

_"Sire!" Glenroy called, Uriel's silver shortsword skidded away across the floor, "No! Get up, run!" Uriel tried to do just that, but found he was pinned down into the floor, a boot shoving into his solar plexus. Baurus drove through the deadric assassins, and he was only a few feet away when the assassin above the Emperor suddenly slumped down, dead. Uriel leapt to his feet and snatched up his sword as a loud scream of effort hit their ears, and the tiny form of Quinn leapt from her place above them and into the fray below. She now had weaponry and armor, Uriel noticed, rusty old iron armor that scratched at her skin and dented easily, and in her hands were a rusty iron dagger and a rusty iron bow. She stood directly between Baurus and Glenroy, grabbing an assassin roughly by the shoulder and stabbing her knife into his throat before ducking down and kicking high, right into another assassin's face. She shoved the blade into his crotch, then backed away and darted sideways as he fell, leaping upon a larger assassin and grabbing hold of his head, stabbing his armored cranium repeatedly before leaping backwards and landing gracefully on the floor. Baurus let the assassin on his blade slide away and looked towards the small Breton girl, Glenroy advanced on her,_

_"Damn it, it's that prisoner again!" he edged in front of the Emperor, "Kill her! She's probably working with the assassins!" He drew his hand back to swing his blade at her, but Uriel's hand shot out and grabbed him by the arm._

_"She is not one of them." He stated, Glenroy hesitated, "She can help us."_

_"The Emperor is right, Glenroy, put down your weapon." Baurus ordered, "She's done nothing but help us so far." Glenroy glared at Quinn briefly, then sheathed his blade._

_"I apologize for Glenroy's behavior," said the Emperor, "He doesn't understand why I trust you."_

_"I don't understand why you trust me either." Said Quinn._

_"You've not seen what I've seen, I cannot explain it to you during our flight from the city, but I will make you understand."_

_"What's to understand?" asked Quinn, Uriel smiled sadly,_

_"Your path intertwines with the very fate of Tamriel herself, and it is why you will continue on with her, until the end." He placed his hand on the glowing red amulet on his neck, "I know it to be true," he reached out and took her hand and gently placed it on the Amulet. It shone brightly under her fingertips, getting looks of surprise and confusion from Baurus, Quinn, and Glenroy. Uriel smiled gently, "I feel it."_

I know the chapter is kind of short, but you do get to see the rest of Quinn's interaction with Uriel, I promise!


	5. The Fever

Quinn's fever was high, and her body shook as if she were chilled, Martin had gently rested her on the bed as she mumbled incoherently in her sleep. He sent a courier out to find Mingan and Arboghast, but he doubted that they would return, and he administered healing spells to her to keep her fever from growing any warmer. Martin sat at the side of the bed, contemplating what she had said to him, and what had happened to make her so ill. He passed his hand over her face as he healed her cut, then began to rummage around in her bag for a healing potion, or something that she could ingest so she would heal internally. Martin felt his hand grasp her light leather armor, and pulled it from the bag curiously, his eyes looked it over briefly and focused on one anomaly on the armor's abdomen. It was a rough rawhide stitch, almost as if she'd done a minor fix to cover a serious wound to her stomach, Martin threw the armor onto the bed and lifted the covers away from her,

"Quinn?" he patted her face gently, getting a groan from her, "Why didn't you tell me that you were hurt?"

"I'm… fine… didn't want you to worry…" she mumbled, her eyes still closed, "Just a scratch…"

"I have to take your gown off of you to get at it." Martin stated, Quinn shook her head a little,

"Don't… please."

"Your fever is getting worse, I have to." Martin urged, she seemed to fall back asleep after a few moments, Martin passed another healing spell over her before swallowing hard, gritting his teeth, and rolling her onto her stomach. He undid the laces to the corset down the side, and sliding her arms out of the sleeves, when he slid the gown off of her he laid it gently at the bottom of the bed, and rolled her onto her back. The gash in her stomach wasn't deep, or particularly large, but it had a strange powdery residue in and around it that made Martin suspect that a poison was to blame for her fever. He pulled the blanket over her, and looked around in her satchel for anything that might help ease her sweaty discomfort. After some time, he found a very small health potion, and when he opened it up he found it pasty and sweet smelling, most likely Quinn had made it herself and hadn't gotten the opportunity to add water to it. He let some ooze out onto his finger and gently spread some onto her wound, coating it heavily, and then from his own flask he added water to it so she could drink it. He placed the bottle down and pulled a very long and thick bandage from Quinn's bag, lifting her slightly as he wrapped it around her abdomen to cover her wound. He lifted the blanket over her again, and waited, sitting on the edge of the bed for the hour or so it took for her eyes to open. When they did, Martin sprang up and to her,

"Here," he picked up the bottle, "Drink this, this should help you, you've been poisoned."

"Poisoned?" she blinked tiredly, he put his wrist to her forehead, she was still burning up, "Who'd… want to…" her head lolled.

"Please, drink this, it will help you." Quinn sat up as best as she could, when she slipped Martin used his arm to lift her shoulders up, and after she ingested the sickly sweet liquid she fell back against him gently. Quinn kicked the blankets off of her, "It's hot in here…"

"No, leave them on." Martin urged, placing the bottle down, "I've sent for Arboghast and Mingan, maybe they can help." He pulled the cloth back up,

"Won't… find them." She mumbled, rolling onto her side, her face pressed into his chest. "So… tired…" Martin felt the heat reach his face again, and a strange swooning come into his chest at seeing the beautiful and dangerous assassin limp and helpless in his arms. Martin bit his lip,

"Damn." He whispered, Quinn remained silent, her breathing relaxed and clear. There was no wheezing from her lungs and her skin slowly, ever so slowly, began to regain some of its color. Martin eased her back onto the bed and her head onto the pillow, aware of the new feelings inside of him, and knowing that they were forbidden. He was a priest, sworn to chastity and devotion only to Akatosh and the Nine Divines, it pained him. "Who are you?" he muttered, sitting at the desk nearby, "Who are you, so dark and yet so… pure?" he stared at her a moment, "By the Nine… Akatosh forgive me for the feelings I've grown weak to."

* * *

The envelope was small and light in Quinn's hands, she picked it up gently, sliding it out from under Martin's limp arms. He was slumped over the desk, asleep, completely exhausted from staying up the night before, and Quinn didn't want to wake him. She opened it quietly, pulling out the letter and unfolding it in her gloved hands:

"_Brother Maynard,_

_I must make this brief for I have little room and little time. I will not mention names or locations in this note, due to the reason I left the chapel. As you know I was called away for a matter of some urgency, and I left believing that I could better serve Akatosh when I took my proper place away from the church. I still believe that, but I don't believe that I can serve Akatosh and the Nine Divines as a priest any longer. It only took two days, but my heart has been directed elsewhere and I cannot fight it, no matter how hard I try._

_I am writing to tell you that I am safe, my escort was not the dangerous assassin that I'd feared, and I will devote myself to the study of Daedra, destructive magic, and skills in combat. The times ahead call for it, and I can't avoid them, no one can. There will be blood, my friend, and those who seek it will not be merciful and benevolent. Please, for my sake, defend yourself._

_Be safe,_

_M_"

Quinn slid it back into the envelope, then back under Martin's arm, stirring the priest from he place on the desk. Martin rubbed his eyes as he stood, knocking the letter to the floor accidentally, and when he scrambled to pick it up she knew that he didn't realize she'd already read it.

"You're better?" he asked, she nodded,

"I feel better, yes." She sat on the bed, "What's that letter, Brother Martin?"

"…It's for my father." He swallowed hard, Quinn nodded, unsure of why he'd lie to her about it.

"I see. You most likely shouldn't send it, if they follow the letter and find him he could die." Quinn informed him, Martin looked at it hopelessly, "Unless Arboghast and Mingan took it for you."

"You said that we wouldn't find them."

"They're downstairs, Lucien sent them back to stay with me." Said Quinn, she smiled weakly, "I'll send them on their way, though, one of them can deliver the letter."

"I… Yes…" he seemed hesitant as he stood, Quinn rose to her feet, "Are you sure you're alright?"

"Better than alright, the cut itself is gone, the poison is out of my body, and I finally got a good night's sleep." The black armor was back on her body, and her once pale skin had a peaches and cream complexion, her full lips soft and firm, and her eyes –

Martin caught himself in his chain of thoughts, shuddering and nodding.

"Good… good, I wish I could say the same."

"Come downstairs and get something to eat, it's not midday yet, you can sleep a little more after you eat." She pulled him to his feet, "I want a sweetroll, anyway, I'll eat with you."

"Sweetroll? You had half a sweetcake last night!"

"I'm part Kajiit, I love sugar." She smile cheekily back at him, pulling her hood up as they made their way down the stairs. Arboghast, Mingan, and a dark elf woman with dark hair sat at the table causing a ruckus of laughing and curse words amidst the morning pleasantries.

"Ne Quin-al! My lady!" the Dunmer woman got up and ran to Quinn, crushing her in a hug, "I'm glad to see you well!" Martin guessed this new face was Tuwile Telvanni, Mingan's 'cousin'.

"All thanks to Brother Martin." Martin felt Quinn's hand land on his shoulder, and she pulled him to her in a friendly one armed embrace. He felt heat rushing to his face again, although he thought that it was stupid that he be flustered at a simple thankful gesture like that. All three of Quinn's compatriots wore dark robes and hoods, Tuwile was pretty too, but not like Quinn, though Tuwile seemed to have a friendly disposition. Quinn had yet to release Martin from her one armed hug, and while she held him like that she chatted absently with Tuwile and the others, Arboghast smirked at Martin, chuckling and elbowing Mingan to look at Martin's flushed face. He really wished that she would move her arm, or that he could feel his knees, whenever Martin was flustered by a girl as a boy he'd have a hard time walking around, he'd stumble and trip everywhere. Martin leaned a little bit into Quinn so he didn't fall over, wondering if Uriel Septim had this problem… maybe it was genetic.

"Did she tell you about how we all met?" asked Tuwile, Martin was drawn back to reality, Quinn smiled widely at that.

"Don't, our affairs make him a little bit nervous."

"Oh, so he knows?"

"Yes, Arboghast told him."

"I did not!" Arbo snorted, "Figured it out on his own, I just filled in the blanks!"

"We were in this very Inn." Said Tuwile, "Some drunken Orc had the nerve to jump up and start cursing out Arboghast for being a half breed –"

" –He's half Nord, it's why he's so tall –" Said Quinn,

" –And this is before we all knew we were in the same guild, so we all followed him to his room that night to enact our… 'revenge'." Tuwile giggled, "Ran right into each other."

"We're all half breeds." Said Quinn, "Tuwile and Mingan are half Imperial, the Orc hadn't been treating any of us that nicely that night."

"Bastard got so drunk he didn't even feel it when we tied him to the bed and left a Scamp in the room." Said Mingan.

"You killed him?" asked Martin,

"No, just scared him half to death." Said Quinn, "We ran in and killed the thing after a time, he'd been talking tough, but for some odd reason the poor fellow just couldn't defend himself."

"Can't imagine _why_." Arbo giggled.

"But, we made him clean up the Scamp's mess and his own, so it was worth it." Said Tuwile, "We're all from different Sanctuaries, except for Arbo, he's with Quinn."

"We half breeds have to stick together." Arbo nodded,

"Martin's a half breed too." Said Quinn, Martin's face flushed darker,

"Oh?" asked Mingan,

"Half Breton, half Imperial."

"Good combination, you can use magic but you can talk your way out of any situation." Said Tuwile. Martin shrugged, "Not only that, you get very good looking spawn from that pairing –"

"Stop _flirting_ with every Imperial man that you see, wench." Mingan chided, Tuwile furrowed her brow,

"I don't know what you're talking about." She winked at Quinn, Martin felt slightly dazed at being in the middle of the Assassin's breakfast club. "I still like the Breton Kajiit combination. Makes pretty babies."

"Lucien would agree." Said Arbo,

"Oh, shut up, he doesn't sleep with Quinn and you know it."

"How can you be sure?"

"Because he's like my _father_." Quinn rolled her eyes,

"Besides, _I'm_ the one who slept with him." Said Tuwile, "I'd know."

"_Tuwile_!" Mingan gaped,

"Listen, big brother, I'm not a baby, I can snog and canoodle with anyone I please."

"And she does." Said Arbo.

"What would _you_ know about that?!" asked Mingan. Martin felt his head spinning, his stomach growled gently with hunger, Quinn turned to him.

"Nothing." Said Arbo innocently, mock pouting at Quinn and Tuwile.

"Oh really?" Mingan snarled, Quinn nudged Martin gently.

"Let's get you some food while they're bickering."

"I uh… yes." He felt some of the blood leave his face as Quinn leaned away from him, "I want a sweetroll."

"Oh?"

"Well… if I can't finish it than you can eat it. So why not?"

"You could just buy me an entire sweetcake, that would shut me up."

"For how long?"

"About a week." Arboghast butted in, to escape Mingan's interrogation.

"Then perhaps I should." Said Martin, Quinn was eased by the shy grin on his face. Tuwile shook her head,

"How's your leg?" asked Quinn, Martin started, having actually forgotten about his wound, because the pain in his leg had diminished,

"It's fine, it doesn't even hurt anymore."

"Brother Magus here," she used his false name, "Needs a new set of robes. Normally we wouldn't care but since this also concerns the safety of a Daughter of Sithis, his identity must be kept a secret."

"Great, keep shouting his alias, then." Mingan snorted.

"_Magus, Septim, Amulet of Kings! Ass fucking! I support the Night Mother! Magus, Magus_! _MARTIN!_" Arbo shouted, "Look, nothin' happened. Secure as a monk's asshole."

"Look, just take Mingan's spare set of robes," said Tuwile, "They're brand new, and they have spells of stealth as well."

"I can also spare my ring of chameleon as well." Said Arbo, "In case you need it."

"That would be good, but it would be suspicious to see a beautiful woman walking around with a shadowy stalker behind her." Said Mingan, "If a highway patrolman spotted him then he'd attract to much attention to the two of you. It's better that you're visible."

"No other assassin outside of the Dark Brotherhood, deadric or not, would mess with a Speaker and a Silencer. That's what the situation will look like, Lucien has given Brother Magus here license to operate under his name."

"So your new name is Lucien Lachance." Tuwile nodded, "Brilliant, I wonder what else Lucien has in store."

"Shut up, whore." Mingan snorted, Tuwile had been munching on a piece of bread, by the sound of her chewing it was a little stale, and now it bounced painfully off of her brother's head. "_Gah_!"

"Like you're any better, fetcher!"

"I bet the _priest_ get's more tail than Mingan." Arbo giggled, Martin's face flushed again,

"Uh… no." Martin corrected, looking away.

"Oh?"

"It's been quite some time. I'm sworn to chastity, remember?"

"You weren't always a priest, though." Mingan chided, Quinn sat on a barstool and ripped a piece of sweetcake off and put it in her mouth, letting the bread hang from her lips as Martin's brow furrowed,

"No, I wasn't."

"So it's a secret, then? Sounds like a good story."

"… I know a thing or two about daedra." Martin said bitterly, "Let's just leave it at that."

"Aww, I want to know!" said Arbo, "What, you were a mage?"

"Stay out of it, Arbo." Mingan shook his head, and proceeded to eat the bread Tuwile had thrown at him.

"But I want to know! I bet he was a mage, some spell went wrong and –"

"Arbo –" Tuwile shook her head, but Martin's mouth was quick,

"_None of your business._" he snapped.

"Arboghast, hold your tongue." Quinn ordered, Martin stood from his stool and strode back up to their room, seething.

"Martin, wait, come back!" Arboghast called, "I didn't mean…" Martin disappeared up the steps. "Aww, damn! I finally have a fondness for the fellow and I piss him off!"

"Open mouth, insert foot." Mingan sighed, Quinn grabbed a few more bread loaves and cheese wedges from the table and stuffed them into her satchel, then a few apples and some crab meat. "Don't forget to buy him breakfast, Quinn."

"Right…" From the innkeeper she bought a sweetcake and two bottles of ale, and darted quickly up to their room, knocking gently. "Martin?" she called, there was no response, and she carefully shoved the door open. "Martin, I brought you breakfast." He jumped slightly where he was, sitting on the far side of the bed with his back to the door.

"Oh… I'm sorry I didn't hear you come in…" he said absently, Quinn placed her satchel down on the floor and sat at the desk inside the room, ripping off a piece of the sweetcake and handing it to him. "I'm not hungry anymore, Quinn."

"Please eat." She still held it out, and he slowly grabbed it and took a reluctant bite. She held out a bottle to him, and he shook his head,

"I don't drink." He said quietly, "I haven't touched a drop in my entire life."

"Arbo didn't mean any harm, Martin, he's just a little…" she trailed off, looking for the right word.

"_Stupid_?" Martin gave her one, she shrugged and nodded, "I told him all he needed to know."

"I understand, and I'm sure he understands now. Don't worry about them Martin, they're not your enemy."

"I hope not." He gazed sadly at her, "I've been so unsure of everything since I met you, Ne Quin-al."

"I know, I'm sorry that we couldn't have met on better terms, I really don't like the fact that _I'm_ the one who had to turn your life upside down."

"You're not the one who summoned the Oblivion gate."

"No…"

"So who could have? Everything I know about daedric magic says that such stable portals are impossible." Said Martin, "I don't know… maybe the Emperor's death has something to do with it."

"Don't worry yourself about it now, Brother Martin. You don't have the energy or the resources to figure this out, and you won't until we get you somewhere safe and we can really find out if you are the heir." She stood and left the sweetcake on the table beside the bed.

"Don't call me 'Brother' anymore." He stated, Quinn paused in her walk, "I… I'm betraying the Order."

"Why?"

"I don't know if I can believe the stories and legends about Akatosh and the Nine Divines, not after Kvatch. I want to believe, I want to serve but… I may have to fight instead of giving pious advice." Martin looked at her over his shoulder, "But, you already knew that, seeing as how you read my letter." Quinn shrugged,

"I was worried. I didn't want you to send it and give away our intent or whereabouts."

"I see…"

"And out of curiosity." She admitted, "I'm terrible, the woman in me got the better of my logic." Martin cracked a brief smile, "Get some rest Martin, give me the letter, and I'll send them on their way." After Quinn left Martin let his head rest on the pillow, the heat within his chest grew more intense with every shy word she spoke. He didn't sleep at all, so consumed by it he was, and when she poked her head into the room to tell him that is was time to get ready to leave, he immediately sat up and blinked his eyes tiredly. The robes he was given were black, pitch black, and the hood covered his face almost completely,

"So…who am I again?"

"Martin." She said absently, he chuckled,

"_Quinn_."

"Lucien Lachance. Speaker for the Black Hand, he is in charge of the Dark Brotherhood Sanctuary in Cheydinhal." She rubbed her nose, her hand hovering in front of her mouth as he pulled the hood up and glanced at his gloved hands. "I didn't expect you to look so much like my superior."

"I'm still a little unsure about this…"

"You have to lose that, Martin, otherwise people will be suspicious." She glanced at him sideways, "And try to look a little bit meaner."

"How am I supposed to do that?"

"I don't know, glare at me." He did, and she rubbed her nose again to cover her giggles, "You're _squinting_, not _glaring_."

"Hmph." His brow furrowed and the combination of that and the dark rings around his eyes made him look extremely cranky.

"Grumpy is good enough. When we're on the road make no eye contact with anyone, just look forwards confidently as if they don't mean a damn thing. Leave the talking to me, alright?" Martin nodded, "Good, today we should make it to the Imperial City, we'll continue on as planned in the morning."


	6. The Touch of Madness

Quinn was humming, and Martin tried as best as he could to walk with her without lagging behind. The sun began to sink low in the sky as the archway to the Imperial City came into view,

"Ah… good, we're here!" Quinn darted ahead and slapped the stone pillars roughly, "Strange really, I hate this place." She shrugged as Martin caught up, "Come on! Maybe we can get into the Merchant's Inn!"

"Quinn, slow down, I'm not _really_ a trained assassin!"

"Oh, it's only a little farther! I'll race you!" she sprinted ahead towards the main gates, Martin calling after her.

"Woman, you'll be the end of me! I just know it!" he laughed, walking slowly towards her. She leaned against the doors as she caught her breath,

"Slow poke, hurry up!"

"Unlike you, I'm actually getting _old_." Martin sighed, "I'd rather not push myself."

"For the future emperor of Cyrodiil you sure are a wimp."

"_Quinn_."

"And a grump."

"Please, Quinn, can we just go to the Inn? I'd didn't sleep well last night or this morning."

"Why?"

"You and your friends, that's why."

"Okay, okay… We'll stay at the Merchants Inn, it's right in the market District all the way across town." Martin let his head fall back and he let out a growl of fatigue. "_All right, all right_, the Tiber Septim it is! I wish you weren't so old, I'd be able to save money if you could just _keep up_."

"I have money too, Quinn."

"Like I'd let you pay, Lucien." She shook her head as she shoved at the giant old doors, "Oof, they never oil these damn things…" Martin shoved his way into the small space between the doors, helping yank them open, and shoving them closed as Quinn stepped inside.

"Ahh…" Martin stretched slightly, Quinn heard his back pop and crack, "It's not that I'm old, I just never got to travel much because of my duties at the chapel." He sighed, "I'm surprised the guards don't attack us outright, considering what we are."

"Well, they're paid to only do something when they _see _something. And the Septim line has always had an agreement with the Dark Brotherhood."

"Oh?"

"We're not allowed to hurt you. They've already ruled us out, or I'd be in jail again just because I'm walking around." She nodded at the guard politely, averting her eyes. "Like I said before, no eye contact whatsoever, alright?" he nodded silently. "Alright, when we get to the Inn, you go and rest, I'll pay for our room, and then I have to go on another errand." Martin said nothing, "It's not for the Dark Brotherhood, so don't worry about me."

"I can't help it, I have to worry about _everybody_."

"You'll kill yourself like that."

"And you won't with your trade?"

"I'm not just an assassin, Martin." She glanced at him over her shoulder, "I'm the head of the Fighter's Guild, and the Arch Mage has called me to meet him tonight."

"For what purpose?"

"I'm not sure, but he said it was urgent."

"Send him my regards."

"You knew him?"

"…Yes." He shook his head, "Anyway… when will you be back?"

"I'm not sure, hopefully by morning."

"Hopefully?" Martin held the door open for her as they walked into the Tiber Septim,

"Don't worry, I'll have protection for you."

"I don't care about that!" Martin snapped,

"Have a little faith." Quinn said easily, "I think he's finally going to give me authorization to eliminate Mannimarco."

"M-Manni –"

"Yes, the King of Worms, or something like that…"

"You can't go on your own!"

"I have to, like hell I'm going to let you be his puppet."

"Puppet?" Martin furrowed his brow, "I'm not inept, I can handle myself!" Quinn shook her head and handed the money over to the Innkeeper, "Take the protection that you're saving for me, and keep it for yourself!"

"I know you're not stupid, and although I've never seen you fight I have faith in the fact that you're a grown man and can hold your own. That's not the issue." Quinn motioned for him to follow her, as she walked up to their room, "I can't risk you getting hurt, and if word gets out that the Arch Mage's right hand man had help, that'd draw attention to you!" Quinn folded her arms over her chest,

"But… what happens if –"

"I've told Arboghast to meet you here in five days, if he arrives then that means I'm… dead. He'll escort you the rest of the way."

"I don't want you to go." Martin insisted, "This is _Mannimarco_! He'd tear your mind apart and use your corpse to kill me! He's not kind, and he won't hesitate because you're a woman!"

"I wouldn't want him to." Said Quinn, "I know I don't look it but I can hold my own, there's a reason I'm in the Dark Brotherhood." Martin nodded slowly, "I really appreciate your concern, Martin, don't think otherwise." She put a hand on his shoulder, "I'll be back, okay?"

"Just be careful." Martin put his hand on hers, but it slipped away as Quinn turned and departed. The fleeting warmth made Martin want to run after her, but he knew that she'd only lecture him and continue on.

* * *

The Inn was quiet, but Martin didn't fall asleep right away, Quinn hadn't returned from her errand yet, and he sat on his bed twiddling his thumbs and fretting. Too many thoughts buzzing around in his head, doubts and fears making him woozy and ill. He laid on his side, holding his stomach to quiet the nerves making him feel nauseous, and stared at the drooling and dying candle on the bedside table. He hoped she came back, even knowing the reasons behind it, selfish as they may have been, but he didn't fight against them. Martin felt slight paranoia at his newfound affection for the shy half-breed, Akatosh probably wasn't going to be happy about that, Martin was a priest after all. But he had been tortured by the shy glances and quiet words of his small but dangerous companion. Even in body she was to his liking: her lips, her elegant and pale features, her graceful arms and legs, and… her eyes… brilliant green, almost yellow. Catching himself, Martin grabbed his pillow and slammed it over his head to deprive himself of air, maybe if he killed enough brain cells he'd stop thinking about Quinn… and her beautiful and lithe body. He held it fast over his face, it still didn't shut out the memories of her running beside him when they ran from the Vampires, or sleeping nearby when she was fighting her fever, or her walking away from him in the beautiful gown, showing him her milky white skin. Martin sighed, tossing the pillow away, sitting up and running his fingers through his hair. His head throbbed and his throat was dry, making it sore and painful.

He'd been celibate for longer than he'd care to admit, once in a great while he'd contemplate leaving the Order to explore and see what he was missing, but something would always come up and he'd be trapped in Kvatch. Most recently, he'd been chosen to represent the Chapel at the Emperor's funeral, but was delayed by the delightful hell gate from Oblivion. But now, not only was he getting the chance to explore, but he also had a beautiful and capable escort. Martin still felt his nagging devotion to Akatosh, blind faith that compelled him towards guilt, he was so angry with his Aedra that he was considering being disobedient just to test and see if they would respond, to test and see if they were _there_. Besides, wasn't he the bastard offspring of the greatest servant of Akatosh, the descendant of Talos himself? Martin didn't really care that much anymore, he was frustrated, tired, hungry, and worried about the dark damsel who saved him from distress. He was absolutely sure that he'd die without her protection, and he wondered what 'protection' Quinn had sent for him.

It was silent, the silence rang loudly in Martin's ears, and only when he heard someone cough in the hallway outside of his door did he perk up and listen.

"Mazken scum." It snorted, Martin blanched,

"Aureal swine." Another declared,

"If it wasn't for our Lord I'd end you and send you back to Oblivion!"

"I'd welcome to opportunity to slay you, Golden Piglet, but I cannot, her Grace has asked me for this one favor." Martin stood from the bed and walked to the door, pulling it open gently and peeking out, "The male has been roused, thanks to you."

"It is not my doing!" The tall and dark skinned women outside of the door glanced at Martin snidely, he opened the door still wider. "I apologize if the Mazken woke you… sir." The lofty woman with tan skin and golden armor forced the word from her mouth, almost spitting it out.

"I assume that her Grace did not tell you of us, your protection." The tall woman, who had the same skin as a dark elf, with dark black eyes and fierce black armor, nodded her head politely. "I am Naga, Captain of the Mazken guard of New Sheoth."

"And I am Daiji, Lord Sheogorath's personal bodyguard."

"You're Daedra?" asked Martin, they looked at each other, then back to him, and nodded, "And Quinn sent you to me?"

"Her Grace asked a small favor from our Lord," said Naga, "That I accompany her to Tamriel and keep watch over the male who she has grown fond of."

"The land where we come from, the Shivering Isles, is –"

"Is split in half, Dementia and Mania." Martin stated, they looked at each other again, "I've 'studied' your Lord."

"Your escort, Her Grace Ne-Quin al, is Duchess of Mania." Said Naga, "She commanded that the Golden Saint be here, but I came willingly to aid her, despite the fact that I am aligned with Dementia."

"Ah." Martin swallowed hard at the Aureal's glare, and he looked to Naga, who had the same glare on her face. "I apologize for disturbing you, I heard raised voices."

"It is of no consequence, Her Grace ordered us to accompany you should she fall, and most likely to guard you when we reach your destination." Said Daiji.

"I see… thank you." He bit his lip at their lack of response, and retreated back into his room, not wanting anything more to do with the two scowling daedra outside the door. He fell on his bed, his thoughts once again returning to the woman escorting him, and to the ghosts of his past that she brought to him. He felt a painful rumble in his stomach, gripping it, he sighed. "Sheogorath…" he mumbled, "Yes… I know a thing or two about the Prince of Madness."


	7. The Vampire

Quinn felt her feet ache as she stepped into the Fort, her feet slipping slightly as she made her way down the rope ladder. Three days of walking, and she'd made the mistake of stopping at the Sanctuary, only to have Ocheeva and Vicente run up and start babbling about Lucien's sealed orders to her. She sighed, and walked to the Fort, like she always did, her feet throbbing and her eyes threatening to close from fatigue. Still, she climbed down the rope ladder to find Lucien standing nearby, brooding and contemplating darkness in the corner.

"Lucien?" she called, he perked up, and beckoned her closer,

"I've been waiting for you." He said slowly, Quinn was happy to see him, but the way he had been treating her was different as of late. The look in his eye was different, and the way he spoke was no longer held only mild affection, the Speaker seemed as if he was more interested in his protégé than he would admit. "I have concerns, Quinn."

"What about, honorable Speaker?"

"Your new Imperial pet, the little priest."

"He's the heir to Dragon Throne."

"Is he?" Lucien raised a critical eyebrow, "How are you so sure, Assassin?"

"He… resembles his father."

"I sense hesitation in your voice, is it doubt?"

"No."

"Then what is it?" He circled her slowly, it made Quinn feel as if she was being subjected to one of Lucien's infamous interrogations.

"It's concern for the man I am escorting."

"Oh?" Lucien paused as he stood at Quinn's left side, "It seems your contracts are of no concern to you any longer."

"I know my duty to the Empire."

"Your duty is to Sithis, Empire be damned!" Lucien scolded, "Your newfound affection for this Septim imposter is distracting you."

"I disagree."

"As do I, with your belief in the fact that he is a Septim." Said Lucien, "You are to eliminate him as soon as possible."

"What?!" Quinn's jaw dropped, "Lucien I am absolutely sure that it is him!"

"The Royal line is dead," Lucien sneered, "you expect me to believe that Uriel Septim, the do-gooder Emperor, would have an affair and sire a bastard child?" Lucien snorted, "I doubt it, the man was more devoted to Akatosh and the Nine Divines than a priest."

"It is possible." Quinn urged, "Uriel himself spoke to me, he told me he had an illegitimate son!" Lucien wrung his hands,

"The Mythic Dawn made us an offer that we can no longer refuse."

"They know who he is?" Quinn's eyes widened, "They know he _exists_?"

"Of course they do. They, like me, are not convinced he is the real heir, but want to eliminate him to prevent any… disruptions."

"So you spoke to him?" Quinn felt her stomach tighten into a knot, "You spoke to the man who had our Emperor _murdered_?"

"You say 'murder' like it is such a foul word, when you yourself have committed the act dozens of times." Lucien yawned, "You _will_ kill him, no matter how he woos you."

"Please. I made a promise to Uriel."

"Promise? What promise?"

"I promised that I would save Martin, and that I would help save Tamriel." Quinn stated, "He told me that he trusted me on his dying breath, and he put more faith into me and gave me more respect than anyone I've ever known! If I must betray the Brotherhood to protect his ideals and Martin's life, so…" Lucien walked closer, she trailed off, averting her eyes.

"So… what?"

"So be it." She swallowed hard and looked him in the eye.

"You are willing to throw your life away to protect ideals? That I highly doubt." Lucien snorted, rubbing his chin, "Very well, what is your next course of action?"

"We're heading to Weynon Priory to meet with the Grandmaster of the Blades, and to retrieve the Amulet of Kings."

"When you have the Amulet, he will wear it, and if he is not of Royal blood he will be executed, is that clear?"

"Yes."

"Now… I have other news, dear sister. About the Sanctuary you now live in." Lucien sighed through his nose, "There is a traitor within the Dark Brotherhood, and we have traced its influence all the way back to the Cheydinhal Sanctuary. It must be purged." Quinn started, but said nothing, "Everyone, everything inside of those walls must die. You will enact the ancient and sacred rite of Purification."

"I… I have to kill _everyone_?"

"Everyone."

"But Lucien they're my family, I can't!"

"Not even the filthy Vampire?" Lucien added, snidely, Quinn felt the words hit her and wound her.

"No! No one! I won't!" Quinn was stunned at how quickly Lucien's stoic face became enraged, he reached out grabbed her, her throat constricted as he slammed her against the wall.

"You will do as you are told!" he snarled, "I have had enough of your pathetic excuses, you will cleanse the Sanctuary, and I will not hear another word about it!" He threw her to the side towards the rope ladder, "Get out of my sight!" He stalked off, leaving Quinn on the floor. She didn't move for a moment or two, waiting until Lucien scowled and whirled around, pointing at her, "If you don't, I'll find and kill your precious Imperial pet!"

"Why does he frighten you so, Lucien?" Quinn stood, Lucien looked enraged, "He's just a priest of Akatosh, even an Emperor is still just a man –"

"You think I fear the little Septim Usurper?" he snapped, "I'd sooner rip his throat out than have another pious Emperor." He snapped his knuckles, "I'm am a Speaker of the Black hand, every ten years we meet with the Emperor to discuss the agreement between Sithis and the royal servants of the Nine. We exist in such a way that reminds the people of Tamriel that there is darkness and it should be _feared_, while his highness was bound and determined to destroy that. And now here you stand, my star pupil, defending the light that would destroy our sacred darkness."

"That is not my intent, Lucien." Quinn turned her back on him, "I defend Martin because he knows the risks, and he's walking a path he'd never thought he'd take."

"Because he's brave?" Lucien speculated, "Because he is what you want." He took a few steps closer, Quinn was puzzled, "Now I see… there is no real purpose in this, you are infatuated with him."

"No."

"Do not lie to me. I know you would throw away your family to save him, even if he wasn't a Septim."

"No."

"Vicente followed you both to Skingrad," Lucien snorted, "He saw how he tended to you while you were ill. You're telling me, you let a _stranger_ touch you and take your clothes off?" Quinn blushed hard,

"I was delirious, he didn't violate me, he was trying to help me."

"You were either delirious, drunk, or just a _whore_." Lucien growled, Quinn bit her lip, "Why show weakness to the Septim Usurper, eh? Why show so much trust to a man who will most likely disappoint you?"

"Because." Quinn backed away as Lucien edged closer, she felt his bed hit the back of her knees, "Why did you have Vicente follow me?"

"Why does it matter?" he asked, "Apparently I did it for good reason."

"I already had Arboghast there," Quinn mumbled, Lucien advanced harder, she lost her balance and fell backwards onto the bed.

"Why don't you trust _me_?"

"Because I…" Quinn felt him lean down over her, his mouth at her left ear, "Lucien don't –"

"Why am _I_ so unimportant in your little life? Why…" he leaned up again, "_Why _do you mean so much to…" he paused, "Did you tell anyone that you were coming here?"

"No." Quinn immediately stood, and edged away.

"I hear Vicente coming this way… he's just above the trapdoor."

"He must have followed me." Quinn could hear the rustle of his light footsteps, her trained ears heard his lack of breath and heartbeat.

"Leave me." Lucien waved her away, "I have things to think about…"

"Yes, honored Speaker." Quinn made her escape, pulling herself up and running to Vicente as fast as she could. He was surprised when she bowled right into him, knocking him to the ground.

"Quinn! By Sithis, girl, you scared me back into the living!"

"I'm sorry Vicente…" she backed away from him, "I… we have to talk…" she motioned him away from the Fort, he nodded and followed her. After they were far away from the Fort and Quinn could barely see Cheydinhal, she stopped and sat on a rock, making sure to be under a large tree with shade. Vicente hid in that shade,

"Your heart is racing, Quinn, what's the matter?"

"Lucien is going mad," She swallowed, "He wants to kill Martin, and…" she put her face in her hands, "Vicente… I can't do it!"

"Of course not." Vicente kneeled down beside her, his hand on her shoulder, "From the letter you sent me about Uriel, I can't imagine why you'd want to harm his only son. You're a kind soul, Quinn, one that relishes in the pain and suffering of those with an ill will."

"No… no… It's not that." Quinn shook her head, "He thinks that there is a traitor in the Dark Brotherhood."

"That would confirm the rumors."

"Yes…"

"We'd better be careful then, he could come at any time and purify the sanctuary. I'll contact Arboghast and find out what's going on."

"He's with Martin right now, I'm late to meet up with him. The poor priest is probably going out of his mind with worry." Quinn chuckled,

"Still, I run faster than you." Vicente smiled gently, "Where is Arboghast now?"

"He's in the Imperial City, Martin insisted on the Tiber Septim Hotel, and they're going to meet me on the Black Road before we make our way to Weynon Priory in Chorrol."

"Very well, I'll head to the Sanctuary and tell Ocheeva I'm leaving, then I'll find Arboghast and accompany him and Martin to the Black Road." He stood, "I'll see you there." He touched her hand affectionately, "I'll keep close watch on him, Kitty, don't worry."

"Thank you, Vicente." He let go of her hand, and ran off, pulling up his hood to block out the rays of the sun. Vicente meant a lot to Quinn, and Quinn meant quite a bit to Vicente, both of them knew this, and they stuck together for the most part. It was nothing romantic, but they talked to each other, comforted one another, killed for each other. Vicente was more a father to Quinn than Lucien was, not being just a pupil, but a friend and an equal, Vicente took her under his wing the moment she accepted her first contract.

Quinn couldn't bear the thought of Vicente dying by her hand, though, and had baited him with the Rite of Purification to lure him away from the Sanctuary. And when he saw what she'd done… well… she'd probably let him kill her.

What did she have to live for?


	8. The Smell of a Septim

Martin felt sick. He didn't feel right at all. His body was cold, and he was covered in a freezing sweat, not matter how many blankets he wrapped around him. His head throbbed, he wheezed uncontrollably, his body shook, and mouth burned with a thirst and hunger that he'd not thought possible. Thoughts made a hazy and unruly noise in his head, he couldn't focus enough to even call for help when he threw up the contents of his stomach. He tried to sleep, but his eyes refused to close, and he tried to eat, but food tasted like ash in his mouth. Martin hid his face beneath the blankets, the pain in his head easing as his eyes no longer had to filter light,

"N-Naga… Daiji…" he whimpered, the pain in his body was too intense, he felt his body wobble and fall to the ground, and his limbs refused to move so he could get up, and his vision began to darken. It went quiet, Martin felt his pain slowly disappear as unconsciousness took him, relief made him fall deeper into sleep. He felt hands lifting him back onto the bed, and worried voices talking hurriedly, and a cold hand touching his neck and forehead.

"Hey, Priest." Martin's eyes opened at hearing the familiar voice, Arbo let out a sigh of relief, "_Phew_… You had me worried!"

"I don't feel right… Wait…" Martin tried to sit up, "You're here, but… where's Quinn?"

"She's alright, don't worry, she got delayed by a mission from Lucien Lachance." Arbo cast a healing spell over Martin, "Just relax, she'll be with us in a day or so."

"Why do I feel so sick?"

"Flu. Quinn told me about the Orc Vampire, and it was common for them during the Siege of Orsinium to put poison on their claws."

"Oh." Martin's head fell back, "How long was I unconscious?"

"Five or six hours. Nothing major."

"What was the assignment for Quinn?"

"Lucien was sketchy on it, I tried to find out." Arbo crossed his arms and sat on the end of the bed, "You're worried though, you're right to be."

"Why?"

"He puts that girl through hell, always. And recently he's been… well, let's just say he's taken more of an interest in her."

"Ah…"

"You've got competition from a select few men all over Cyrodiil."

"Competition? What are you implying?" Martin grunted,

"Nothing, except Janus Hassildor would rip your throat out and eat it over her." Arbo rubbed his eyes, "I'm worried about Quinn too."

"What do you think is going on?"

"There've been rumors of traitors in the Dark Brotherhood, now it's been confirmed, and Lucien's been doing some research." He sighed, "The traitor came from the Cheydinhal Sactuary, from before Quinn joined, so she's the only one who is exempt from Sithis's wrath. So she _is_ Sithis's wrath." Arbo looked sad, "She's got to kill her entire family."

"What?!" Martin's head spun as he sat up, "Why doesn't he do it himself?"

"Because he's a sadist likes to watch Quinn squirm, and he wants to see if she can be his Silencer."

"You're a Speaker as well, aren't you?"

"Yes."

"Who's your Silencer?"

"My little brother, Alastor. He's just outside with the Mazken, probably flirting with her." Martin rubbed his eyes ruefully, "Anyway, she said she'd meet us on the Black Road, are you well enough to walk?"

"I think so, yes."

"Good, I think we can –"

"_Ow_!" Martin and Arboghast turned to the doorway leading out into the hall, a figure had just been flung into the room and landed painfully on the floor. "Arbo, she hit me!"

"I'd hit you too." Arboghast rolled his eyes, "Priest, this is my little brother Alastor."

"Hiya." Alastor got up, and squinted at Martin, Martin was taken aback at how similar he and Alastor looked, even with the leather armor and hood. They weren't twin-like, but he had the same hair color, eye color, and skin tone. "I told you that it'd weird him out."

"He's going to be your decoy." Arbo grinned, "Where's your robe?"

"Oh…" Martin reached into the satchel that Quinn had given him, and rummaged around in it, "Here." He handed the blue robe to Alastor, who nodded and ran out of the room. "My decoy?"

"Just in case we get attacked on the road. They won't go after members of the Black Hand, they'll go after the defenseless priest."

"I'm not defenseless." Martin snorted. Arboghast shrugged,

"Maybe you'll get a chance to prove it." He motioned Martin towards the door, "The sword, too." Martin looked towards his belt at the Elven shortsword,

"I have no other weapon." He pulled the scabbard from his belt, and Arboghast shrugged,

"I've got one for you, now give that to me, Alastor will need it." Arboghast held his hand out to receive it, and Martin reluctantly gave it to him. "Good boy. Now here." From his satchel, Arboghast pulled an ebony shortsword, and from the sensation Martin got when he grabbed the hilt, it was enchanted with a frost spell. "You seem the frost enchantment type." Arbo shrugged, "Enjoy, I'm sure Alastor will love the new blade to play with."

"Um, thank you…" Martin felt more at ease for some reason, more at home to the coldness in his fingertips. He sheathed it as Alastor walked back into the door,

"Hey, Arbo? Vicente is here to see you."

"Valteri? Send him up." Arbo motioned his brother away, Alastor ran back down the stairs, "What the hell is going on? He's not supposed to be here!"

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, Martin, uh… how do you feel about Vampires?" Martin's look of astonishment answered his question, "Yeah… He's a two hundred year old assassin, so behave yourself."

"Why is he here?"

"Because Quinn is in a spot of trouble." The voice came from just beside Martin, to his left, and Martin felt the Vampire's nose tickle his ear, Martin pulled away from him. "Got some good reflexes, maybe Kitty isn't as daft as she seems."

"Where's Quinn?" Martin asked, Vicente look skeptical,

"What's the matter, did I _scare_ you?"

"Yes, you did." Martin snapped, "Now where's Quinn? Is she all right?"

"She is physically, but she's worried about you, Priest." Vicente closed the gap between them with two small steps, his speed was alarming and his guile nerve-wracking. Martin heard no breath come from him, and Vicente's skin was pale so he guessed that he hadn't fed in days. "Do you know what Lucien Lachance really thinks of you?"

"Quinn said that he was helping her." Said Martin, Vicente shook his head.

"He doesn't believe that Uriel is your father." Said Vicente, "Now that I'm here I'm not so skeptical." He got closer and closer to Martin, Arboghast stepped in,

"Vicente, control yourself." He put a hand on his arm, "I know rushing here must have drained you, but there are others besides Martin you could feed on."

"Do you know what I smell, Priest?"

"What?" Martin asked,

"I smell… the blood of a Septim." Vicente was gone, with a rush of cold air he swept away, out of the door. Arboghast sighed,

"Great… now if he can't find anyone, we'll either have to volunteer to be food, or we're gonna have to stay for the entire day!"

"It's _sunset_ you idiot," Alastor snorted, "He can walk around in the dark, he's just a pig, that's all."

"Sorry, I didn't realize. I was just in here tending to Martin and his insanely high fever, I was doing _your job_."

"You can handle a sick person!"

"_You're_ the healer!"

"You're the big bad member of the Black Hand, you can handle yourself!"

"And what were you doing? Visiting the brothel?!"

"Maybe."

"Ahhg!" Arboghast swatted at his brother, striking him upside the head, "Damn it, forget it!"

"Uh… how'd my robes fit?" Martin asked hesitantly.

"I'm a bit bigger around the ass than you." He observed, "Otherwise they fit fine." He patted his tush, Martin rolled his eyes, "Damn it… I don't need another big brother, don't roll your eyes at me!"

"Enough, Alastor, just go check on Vicente and make sure he's eaten." Arboghast ordered.

"Fine…" Alastor turned and left, and Arboghast turned to Martin,

"I've seen that look on Vicente's face before." He stated, "Be careful, sometimes he can't help himself."

"What should I do?"

"Do you know a paralysis spell?"

"… Yes. It doesn't last very long but –"

"How's a priest know a spell like that?"

"I wasn't always a priest." Martin raised an eyebrow.

"Ah, right, the sensitive subject." Arbo nodded, "Mage, I'm assuming." Martin nodded, "I'm really curious to know what happened."

"Maybe some other time." Martin shook his head, "For now I'm a little bit more concerned with staying alive."

"And about Quinn."

"And yes, about Quinn." Martin folded his arms over his chest,

"She is rather beautiful."

"I know."

"Single."

"Arboghast, I'm still a priest."

"But you're going to need and Empress!" Arbo insisted, "That's all I'm saying!"

"I don't even know if I am the Emperor's son. Now keep your voice down!" Martin scowled at him, "It's none of your business…" Martin was angered by the smug grin on his face, his mouth opened when Alastor stepped into the room.

"Arbo, Vicente made a mess of the receptionist, I think it's time to go."

"That's very unlike Vicente, normally he likes quiet dignified deaths… let's go." Arboghast motioned to his little brother and the two daedra behind him, "We've got a Empire to save."


	9. The Test

Finally, Lucien and Vicente have made their debut.

As a friendly warning, there will be slightly sexual things happening in this chapter, a bit on the gay side. DON'T FREAK OUT, the pairing hasn't changed, but Vicente is bit more on the _puffy_ side, if you get my meaning.

Relax, it has major relevance, it's not just fluff.

* * *

Martin sat up that night, not able to sleep, even the daedra had nodded off at one point or another. Quinn wasn't there, they had ran the entire distance to the Black road, and it tired them out, so they decided to rest for the night. Martin felt a strange paranoia eat at him, Vicente had gone out hunting for food, and Martin didn't know where he was. He stayed quiet, sitting up against a tree, and sighed, but his breath hitched as something cold and metallic pressed against his neck. Vicente peeked around the tree, his blade against Martin's neck, his other hand pulling Martin's head back by his hair.

"You're an oblivious one, aren't you?"

"Let go of me." Martin snarled,

"I am tempted to cut you, but that would only tempt me to hurt you. I don't want to upset Quinn." The ebony dagger slipped gently against his skin, "Oops." The shallow cut stung slightly, but it still bled out over Vicente's head.

"What're you doing?" Martin held a gloved hand over his neck, Vicente's pale fingers were slick with blood, and he stood away from Martin, sucking it off of his fingers. "Are you trying to scare me?"

"I suppose 'intimidate' and 'scare' are the same thing."

"You think a little cut to my neck is going to frighten me?" Martin said coolly, Vicente shrugged, still licking blood off of his hand,

"I don't see why not. I could kill you right now."

"Then do it." Martin challenged, Vicente shook his head,

"No, I'd be tempted to bleed you dry now that I've had a taste of this." Vicente turned to him, "Vampires have a keen sense of taste, but we are also very psychic, and we can tell what a person is like just through their taste." He kneeled next to Martin, "Do you know what you taste like, Imperial?" Martin said nothing, "There's an array of flavors in you, boy. It started off musky, like the scent of old tomes and parchment, then it turned into a finely aged wine. This suggests change to me… but you want to know what the last scent and flavor was? Something you are forbidden to do, something that you could be cast out of the order for even contemplating." Martin's face flushed, "I smelled and tasted lust in you, boy. So heavy and overpowering it is that I'm tempted to take one of the daedra right now."

"What do you think it means?" Martin asked,

"You've got control over yourself, keep that. It's good that you don't drink or you'd just be one more sorry soul." Vicente's pupils were dilated outwards, "I'm resisting the urge to rip your throat out… and yet you don't flinch." Vicente's face darkened, "Why?"

"You want to know why?"

"Yes."

"I've been faced with the possibility of rotting away forever in a voice of damned souls. I've had a god reach into my very body and play with my soul like a marionette." Martin's face was hard, "If you think that I cannot stand pain, or will fear a petty demon such as you, you are mistaken." Vicente tipped his head slightly, observing Martin, before speaking again.

"You're in love with her, aren't you? With my little Kitty." Vicente smirked as Martin's face regained it's blush,

"I don't know what you're talking about. I don't see what she has to do with anything."

"Liar. You've been dreaming about her."

"I don't know what I've been dreaming."

"You yearn to touch her."

"I'm a priest, I don't."

"Oh really? In your dreams you've done more than just kiss or caress my little Kitty." Vicente grinned,

"_Your_ little Kitty?"

"She's like a daughter to me, don't get nervous." He let his grin get wider, showing his pearly white teeth and fangs, "I trained her, raised her since she was a girl. For ten years she's been under my wing, and if something happens to her…" he let the smile disappear and scowl replaced it, "I'll drink you dry."

"I'm not going to harm her. I've only ever tried to protect her."

"What is she wearing in the dreams, Martin?"

"The… the Amulet of Kings."

"And what do you think it means?"

"I don't know."

"Then you've got some puzzling to do, don't you?" Vicente stood, and started to walk away when Martin called after him.

"Wait." Vicente turned to him, he was standing. "You said that I smelled… like a Septim."

"You smell similar, yes. It's not a deciding factor, if I drank from you that may be a different story."

"You'd be able to tell?"

"Possibly." Vicente looked skeptical, "Speak your mind."

"I want to know." Said Martin, "I'm tired of second guessing and being unsure. I'm tired of Quinn worrying her head off about repaying her debt to the Emperor when it's possible I'm not even his son."

"So, I'm to drink from you then?" asked Vicente, Martin nodded, he suddenly felt a strong heat in his body, Vicente smirked, "You've been played with like a marionette, yes?" Martin felt his hand travel up his body, reaching for the collar of the robe and pulling it down. Martin tensed a little, fighting it, "You don't know much about Vampires, do you?" Martin did know, more than he would have liked, "We are sexual creatures, by nature, and we can hold our victims by our lust for blood and flesh." Martin ground his teeth as Vicente stepped closer, "You do this at your own expense, you know there is a possibility of infection." Martin nodded slightly, "You know what, Martin? I think I like you. I trust you with my Kitty." Vicente patted him on the shoulder, Martin still stuck in his slightly awkward position, "I must warn you, I become a little…" his eyes widened, his fangs lengthened, and he smiled widely, "…Violent."

"Just do it."

"Very well." It was quick, Martin saw the dark blur rush at him, and he went down, Vicente following him to the ground. Martin was in a daze, he felt a strong heat in his body, and a strange sensation at his neck, every nerve in his body felt stimulated, "How're you feeling, Brother Martin?" Vicente's voice was husky and full of need, Martin felt him press closer and closer to his neck,

"Strange…" he mumbled.

"I'll make his next portion of the feeding less… traumatic. I can try, anyway."

"What –" Martin felt Vicente bite down, his fangs ripping through his skin and into the vein below. It was pain at first, Martin bit his lip so hard that it bled, to stop from waking Alastor, Arboghast, and the two ill-tempered daedra. He felt his breath coming harder and harder, as the pain disappeared and was replaced by something that felt more sinister to Martin. It was ecstasy, an ecstasy so strong that Martin gripped Vicente's back, his fingers digging into his shoulder blades, "W-what're you…" Martin paused as Vicente gripped him tighter, pressing his face harder into Martin's neck, and the priest's head fell back, "By the Nine…" he moaned. Vicente growled, and it vibrated against Martin's neck, Martin gripped the dirt and moss beneath him, his fingers digging into the ground. Martin felt something inside of him change, something that had been locked away for a long time, and he gave in to it. "Quinn…" he groaned, "Ne Quin-al…" No sooner did Martin give into his lust his vision began to fade and darken. "Vicente… stop…" But Vicente didn't, he persisted, "It's… It's starting to… go dark…" Vicente lifted his head, pulling away slightly, Martin felt the stinging pain of the bite as his fangs left his neck.

"I'm sorry, I got a little carried away." Vicente leaned away from Martin, falling back against the tree, Martin's heart was racing, and he felt short of breath. "Now you see why it's a great temptation to us Vampires, I let you feel what I felt." He licked his lips, "Normally I only drink from women for that reason." Martin felt a little faint, he tried to get his breath back, "As for your question, I'll need time to focus my thoughts and determine if you are the heir to the Dragon Throne." Martin said nothing, "Martin?" he glanced over at the Imperial, who had passed out on the ground beside him. "Oh dear…" he patted his face gently, but he didn't move. Vicente quickly passed a healing spell over him and darted away, he didn't want Arboghast to know what had transpired, or he'd be very angry. Still, Vicente was surprised that Martin would go that far to help Quinn, Vicente sighed, "Now lets just hope you're really Uriel's heir."

See? Not so bad, was it? But I just felt that the deep sexuality that Vampires have was severely butchered in Oblivion. They did make Vicente kinda smexy though.

I'll have more up soon, don't be afraid to review, I like constructive criticism.


	10. The Vision

_"You can open your eyes now, if you wish." The voice roused Martin from the darkness that had claimed him, and he sat up. "There you go." Martin knew immediately he that he was dreaming, the ground was a white marble, and the walls were white stone with silky white tapestries hung. He felt no pain from the wound on his neck, but his anxieties followed him into his dream-world. Martin glanced around for the source of the voice. "Hello Martin." Martin was taken aback by the man sitting in the throne, the dressed in royal robes and jewels. It was him, Martin saw a mirror image of himself sitting there in the white marble throne, looking at him with kind eyes. "It's good to finally meet you."_

_"Am I dead?" he asked._

_"No."_

_"The Vampire didn't kill me, then…" he looked at his hands, "… And so I'm left to torture Quinn…"_

_"She volunteered."_

_"Who are you to say that?" Martin retorted._

_"You haven't already guessed?" the figure stood slowly,_

_"Are you… me?" he asked, standing, the man laughed,_

_"No." he smiled gently, "I am Uriel Septim."_

_"The Emperor?"_

_"Yes."_

_"But, you look exactly like me, the Emperor didn't look like me."_

_"Yes I did." Uriel snorted, Martin could sense the good humor and kindness in his voice, "When I was younger."_

_"How is this possible?"_

_"You inherited my gift of foresight. Neither of us are the masters of our dreams."_

_"You're his spirit?" Martin asked, he nodded, "Please, tell me what's going on."_

_"You don't know?"_

_"The Oblivion Crisis, I know that much, but… about me. Everyone is telling me that I'm your son."_

_"Quinn did." Uriel said gently, "Everyone else is still skeptical."_

_"Am I?"_

_"Do you doubt it, Martin?" Uriel walked close to him, as he did Martin saw the wrinkles in his face increase, and the hair on his head grow white. "This is the face that you know me by," he was slightly shorter now, on his face a gentle smile, "Do you not see the resemblance?"_

_"…I have my mother's eyes?"_

_"You do."_

_"Who is she?"_

_"She was a very beautiful woman, a very kind woman," Uriel lost some of his smile, and he began to look sad, "Banished from my sight and yours."_

_"So the woman who took care of me wasn't my mother." Martin's face fell, "Who were they?"_

_"They are Blades, a couple who had wanted a child, but the woman had a wound to her stomach and couldn't bear children. Jauffree knew that you'd be safe with Erin and Balin."_

_"Why didn't you keep me with you?" asked Martin, "Why send me away?"_

_"I knew the Empress would have you killed," He frowned, "Your mother was a Blade, her guardian and attendant, and soon after you were born she was cast out of the palace."_

_"…So she's gone?"_

_"I found her, it took years but I finally tracked her down. I told her of you, that you were safe. She went looking for you, after you were expelled from the Mage's Guild. But, I lost track of you when you joined the Order, I didn't know where you were." Uriel sighed, "Knowing her, she most likely is still alive, and was there to keep an eye on you."_

_"How am I supposed to know that this is real? I don't know if I can trust my dreams as of late."_

_"Use your judgement."_

_"Or lack thereof." Martin snorted, then slapped a hand to his head. "Oh… by the Nine, what did I do?!" he leaned backwards against the white marble walls, "I could be infected with Porphyric Hemophilia!"_

_"For Quinn?" asked Uriel, Martin hesitated, but nodded, "Vicente was right."_

_"How am I supposed to know?" Martin sighed, "I've not been with a woman for nearly twenty years, is it lust of love that I'm feeling? I can't tell…" Martin saw the walls suddenly pulsate, the white was interrupted by read throbbing veins. Uriel swallowed hard. "What are these?" Martin traced a finger along the vein, "What does this mean?"_

_"You're close now." Uriel said at last, Martin shook his head, "This may be an appropriate weapon, Brother Martin. Desperation and fear."_

_"How can you call me that?" Martin's vision suddenly grew blurry, "How can I call __myself__ that?"_

_"Be who you are."_

_"What –"_

_"You have three days time." Uriel's face disappeared, "And then you will be one… with them." The room grew dark around him, Vicente's face appeared above him._

"Wake up, Priest."

"…Vicente?" Martin rubbed his eyes, and sat up, "What happened?"

"You passed out, while I was scouting around I saw Quinn making her way here, I thought you might want to be awake for it." Vicente's face was flushed and his cheeks were full and round, he looked younger than Martin did.

"What happened to you?"

"Ah…" Vicente touched his now soft skin with his fingers, "I was in the Ashlands, a young swordsman looking for a fight. I got one." He shrugged, "I regretted my rash actions at first, now I rejoice in the idea that I feed both myself and the Night Mother."

"Do you have visions?"

"No." said Vicente,

"I saw… the Emperor."

"What did he say?"

"…He said I was –"

"_Martin!_" Martin stood immediately at hearing the voice. "Where are you?!"

"Quinn! Over here!" Vicente called, then turned to Martin. "Tell me later." Quinn ran around the tree, and caught her breath,

"Martin, you look ghastly!" she trotted up to him, "Vicente, you look healthy…" she glared at the two of them, "Is there a connection?"

"Perhaps." Vicente rubbed his fang with his tongue, "Maybe I turned him while you were gone."

"Are you _serious_?"

"No, Quinn." Vicente rolled his eyes, "Both of you should get some rest, I'm going Legion Soldier hunting."

"Why?"

"They've got a metallic taste to them, I've got a weakness for it… good night." And with that, Vicente melded away into the darkness.

"Strange bat…" Quinn sighed, "He's right, we need some sleep."

"Yes…" Martin nodded, Quinn smiled tiredly, but it disappeared as soon as it arrived. "Uh, I'm glad to see you safe."

"Likewise." She said coolly, "Did he really feed on you?"

"No." Martin lied, Quinn seemed suspicious, glancing Martin up and down with a shrewd motherly eye, but nodded.

"Good, he's never turned a soul, I'd like to keep it that way."

"You never told me you've been to the Shivering Isles." Martin questioned,

"I planned on it. I'm too tired to tell you now." She yawned, "Go to bed, Martin, I'll catch up with you."

"Yes…" he hesitated, then bit his lip, "Good night, Ne Quin-al." Quinn nodded silently, and walked past him, towards a clearing farther away. Martin paused in his stride, "Quinn?" he didn't turn, he heard her stop,

"What is it Martin?" she sounded distant, sad,

"…What makes you think that I'm his son?" Martin felt his body ache, and his throat burn, he clenched his jaw and took the pain. Quinn didn't answer right away, and walked closer, he heard her footfalls,

"I don't know." She said slowly, "Maybe it's the way you carry yourself… your gate…"

"How I walk?" asked Martin incredulously,

"Uriel walked with an air of confidence born of humility. I saw something in his eyes… mainly pain."

"And you see this in me?"

"No, it was something I recognized in my own face."

"What do you see in me?" asked Martin,

"I see the humility that Uriel had, and there was always something I couldn't quite put my finger on with him… you have it too."

"What other reason do you have to trust in me?" he asked, "What if I fail? What if I'm not the heir?" he still didn't face her, "I'm so lost right now…"

"You look so much like him it's almost unbearable." Martin turned at hearing tears in her voice,

"Quinn?" seeing her with glassy eyes and a pouted lip made him take a few steps towards her.

"You and Uriel are the only people outside of the Brotherhood who have called me 'Quinn'… did I tell you that?" Martin shook his head, "I've had to hide from everyone who I am. _What_ I am. You two are the only ones who've looked at me and talked to me like and equal without _flinching_ or _grimacing_, or turning away to _not look at me_." She bit her lip and composed herself by taking a few slow breaths, but it didn't help, "Brother Martin I… I don't know why I'm so certain about this. I feel as if I'm more certain than you are…"

"You most likely are." Martin took another step closer, "Quinn, I don't want to fail you." She moved her hand in front of her face, rubbing her nose shyly to hide her tears.

"You won't." she mumbled, averting her eyes, "I know it's you –"

"Look me in the eye," he stated, "And tell me why." Quinn felt his eyes bore into her as she looked at him.

"I don't know." She whispered, Martin's face became desperate.

"_Why_?"

"I can't Martin, I _can't_." she pulled away,

"Quinn." He said, quietly, Quinn gripped her own arms, wanting to fold into herself and hide from him. "Please."

"They know who you are." She whimpered, "They know you're with me, they know _everything_ about you." She shook her head, "They've been contacting Lucien about eliminating you, they wanted _me_ to kill you. _He_ wanted me to kill my family, to kill my Brothers and Sisters, and if I didn't kill them he'd kill _you_ and –"

"Slow down, breathe." Martin put his hands on her shoulders, steadying her as she stumbled backwards into a tree, he noticed that her dark leather armor was saturated with something pungent and wet. "What's wrong?" Quinn's eyes gave away the sadness in her face, silent tears began pouring down her cheeks.

"I killed them." She said, her face contorted with sobs. "I _killed them_…"

"Who?"

"_Everyone…_" she whimpered, Martin lifted his hands away from her, finding them stained with blood, the smears of dirt on Quinn's face wasn't dirt at all, it was blood. He caught her as she collapsed in a heap, sobbing uncontrollably, "Oh… _why did he make me do that?!_" Martin pulled her close to him so she wouldn't fall,

"Lean into me, Quinn." He tried to help her stand, but she was dead weight, "Quinn you need rest, you need food…" she said nothing, Martin felt her breathing become erratic and shallow, "Breathe!" He shook her gently, "Please, Quinn, listen to me!" Quinn's eyes were locked on him, he pulled her close to him so she could stand. "Who was it that made you do this?" he asked, she didn't answer, "Was it Lucien Lachance?"

"…Yes."

"He threatened to kill me?"

"Yes."

"I would have preferred it if you had, I don't want to see you like this!" he hugged her close, "I won't let him win, I'll _kill _him before he makes you shed one more tear, do you understand me?" Quinn's breathing evened out, she stood on her own two feet, "No one, not even someone you love, has the right to tell you to rip your life apart!"

"It's my duty to Sithis –"

"Damn Sithis, damn Akatosh, and _damn every other deity that's ever touched Tamriel_." Martin snapped, Quinn tensed, "Oh…" he loosened his grip on her, "I'm sorry Quinn… I didn't mean to –"

"It's alright, Martin." She didn't move, "Sithis is not a kind master, but he understands the hatred his loyal followers have for him."

"Hatred?"

"My family now sits by him in sanguine ecstasy." She said quietly, "Listening to the hymns of darkness from times long past, they know no pain, or fear. They are more fortunate than I."

"You believe this, and yet you're grieving for them?"

"I was scared." She said softly, Martin swallowed hard, "I was frightened that they wouldn't find their way… I still don't know if they have." She pulled away from Martin, he released her slowly, "I need time to think."

"I understand. I'm sorry I insulted your Lord."

"Anyone who has known hate has known Sithis, he considers it a fitting offering." She turned and started walking, "Get some rest, Martin."

"I can't."

"Then at least pretend to." She muttered, "I'm heading to the lake."

"Please don't do anything foolish."

"I'm not so sure I can."

"Don't." he begged, "I need you, Quinn." Quinn nodded, and disappeared between the trees.


	11. The Priory

* * *

It only took a short time for Quinn to return and Vicente to arrive and inform them of his departure. The hug Quinn gave the Vampire was intense, almost as if she was never going to see him again, and when he left Quinn became silent. It wasn't a far walk to Weynon Priory, Alastor was the first to reach it, only to be accosted by a panicking Dark Elf,

"Help!"

"What's the matter with you?" Alastor shoved him off, the Dark elf kept glancing behind him,

"Please! You've got to help! They're attacking us!"

"Who?"

"I don't know who they are, but they've already killed Prior Maborel!" Quinn ran forwards towards the daedric assassin coming from inside the Priory, the blacksmith Dunmer stood there with fright.

"Run, you stupid Chimer git, _run_!" Alastor shrieked, the Dunmer ran, and the assassin Quinn had been chasing disappeared into the trees. Martin struck an assassin with a frost spell, knocking his assailant back. Quinn saw him struggling, and shouted to the Mazken and the Aureal.

"Naga, Daiji, on Martin!" Martin felt the two women stand on either side of him, drawing their swords and beating back the assassins that ran towards him. "Arboghast, find Brother Jauffree!" Quinn cursed loudly as she was assaulted from the side by another assassin, making her lose the one she had been chasing. Arboghast ran into the Priory, then back out and into the chapel house, "Martin, follow him in!" she stabbed her attacker in the head, then righted herself and turned back towards Martin,

"I can't leave you here –"

"_Go!_" Alastor ordered, he drew his blade in an upward arch, slicing open the gut of another assassin. "I'll look out for her!"

"Naga, Daiji, guard the chapel doors!" Quinn ordered, the two daedra pushed Martin into the chapel, "Stay safe!"

Martin found Arboghast back to back with an older Breton monk. They were surrounded, the both of them, Martin swallowed hard as several more of the assassins turned to him. The two other warriors, Arboghast and the elder Breton monk, were back to back, glancing around in their hairy situation.

"You have excellent timing, whoever you are." The Breton man huffed, Martin could barely hear him, "I'll take the one on the left."

"Good," said Arboghast, "the one on the right is _looking at me funny_." Martin drew his blade, and gritted his teeth, willing the cold and prickly energy into his left hand, and dove into the fray. He'd been taught to use a blade by Balin, the man who he had thought was his father, but Martin hadn't fought for his life for some time. Now he was glad that he knew how to defend himself, though he didn't get as much of a body count as Arboghast or the monk in the brown robe. Martin blocked a strike from a rather large assassin, and was shoved back into a wall, pushing his opponent's blade back with as much strength as he could muster. "Monk, save Martin!" Arboghast ordered, Martin heard the older man run near and slice open the back of the assassin's skull, and Martin kicked the body away. The chapel was empty, except for the three men inside, Martin sheathed his blade and looked to the monk, who was breathing heavily, but still smiling.

"Ah… a pleasant surprise! When I'd heard of Kvatch's fate I'd lost hope." He panted, "I'm Jauffree, Grandmaster to the Blades, I knew your father."

"Blades?" Arboghast sheathed his sword, "Quinn said that you were a _monk_."

"Does a normal monk know how to use a dai-katana?" asked Jauffree, "Or, how to wield destruction magic?"

"I guess not." He shrugged, "Why were those guys here?"

"The Amulet." Said Jauffree, "They must have come here to obtain it! If we lose the Amulet now –"

"Where was it being kept?"

"Follow me, I'll show you."

* * *

Quinn and Alastor had taken care of the outside, Naga and Daiji stayed outside while the five ran inside and followed Jauffree up a flight of stairs and to his quarters. It took a moment, but Jauffree came back out, on his face a look of defeat.

"They've taken it." He said at last, Quinn kicked a chair out of frustration, "The Amulet of Kings is gone."

"_Damn it!_" Quinn snarled, she stormed down the stairs and out of the Priory, slamming the door behind her, Alastor made a move to follow her, but Martin stopped him.

"Please, let me talk to her."

"Fine, just get her to come back inside so she can hear what's going on." Martin quickly ran down the steps and bounded out of the door, shutting it silently behind him.

"_The one thing that'd get you off the hook! The one thing that'd __save__ your __skin__!_" she lashed out at a tree, digging her fingers into the soft bark and tearing a large chunk out. She looked at Martin with tired eyes. "I'm sorry Martin, I really am."

"It's not your fault."

"If I had just gone with you straight to the Priory, you'd be safe inside the palace, lighting the _Dragonfires!_" she kicked the tree with fury, "I wouldn't have Lucien breathing down my neck!"

"They were probably _waiting_ for us, and they were aiming for either the Amulet or _me_." Said Martin, "Which one would you prefer they had?" Quinn looked at him with big watery eyes, then looked away, her shoulders slumping.

"You're right…" she mumbled, Martin took a gentle hold of her shoulder, "They'd have been relentless in killing you, if they hadn't already gotten the Amulet as a prize. I'm just worried now that Lucien will makes things more difficult for us." Martin was taken slightly aback as she crushed him to her in a hug, "I'm sorry Brother Martin."

"Don't apologize, it's not your fault." Martin said, "Come back inside, we still need to find out what we're going to do now." Martin urged,

"I understand. I just wanted to do this to a _tree_ rather than you or Alastor, that's all…" she leaned her head against it shoulder, "It's been a very confusing week, hasn't it?"

"Very much so." Said Martin. Quinn released him, and followed him back inside,

"What do we do now?" asked Arboghast, Jauffree shook his head,

"We need to find a place for the night, in Chorrol I can send a courier to Cloud Ruler Temple, but it's better if we disappear for a day or two so they'll lose our trail."

"I'll leave," said Alastor, "I'll take Arboghast with me, they'll most likely follow us to wherever we go, it may buy you some time."

"I agree." Said Arboghast, "If Naga and Daiji follow us we'll draw even more attention away from you."

"What do you mean by that?" asked Naga, with a very unpleasant scowl on her face. "Is it because we are not the same color as you?"

"No, you two are just tall and beautiful, that's all. Not only that you're _gold_." Alastor pointed to Daiji.

"Ne Quin-al and I will be able to defend Martin." Said Jauffree, "Where will you go?"

"We'll head to Bravil, there are plenty of places to hide there." Said Alastor, "We can cut through Elsweyr and to Skingrad or Anvil. Maybe Count Hassildor will help us out."

"Uncle Janus?" asked Arboghast, Alastor nodded, "Oof, I dunno… Vicente followed us through Skingrad, Janus may not be happy about us leading another Vampire through his territory."

"We can try our luck, we'll be fine."

"Very well." Said Jauffree,

"I know a place were we could hide for a few nights." Said Quinn, "I have a hideout nearby, just past Chorrol, it's heavily fortified and stocked with supplies."

"Sounds as good a place as any." Said Jauffree, "All of us will meet at Cloud Ruler Temple, just outside of Bruma." He glanced at them all, "May Talos be with us. Good luck to you."

* * *

Martin walked silently beside Quinn, Jauffree darting forwards once in a while to scout ahead for potential threats. After a while, the Blade grunted, seeing the structure looming in the distance.

"You live in Battlehorn Castle?"

"Yes." Said Quinn, he looked puzzled,

"The last I heard Lord Kain had vanished."

"Actually that's an interesting story." She bit her lip, then darted forwards towards the closed gate, "Captain! Open the gate for us!" Martin peered through the gate at the Redguard in steel armor, who nodded,

"Yes Ma'am!" he yanked at the switch, then turned it with great effort, and pulled the gate open enough for Quinn, Martin, and Jauffree to step inside the walls.

"Release it, Captain, don't strain yourself." Quinn patted him on the arm as he let go,

"Thank you ma'am…" he huffed, and released the switch, letting the gate slam down.

"Captain, I want everyone sober, no drinking, no smoking." Said Quinn, "And I want three of your best inside in my room tonight."

"What's the occasion, ma'am?"

"Him." He nodded her head at Martin, "You don't need details yet, but you will protect him above all others, is that clear?"

"Yes ma'am."

"There will be no breaks tonight, every man can take their food and drink with them on their patrol." She nodded, "Dismissed." The captain hurried away, "So, shall we go inside?" she motioned them inside, "To my left, that's the blacksmith, to my right is the stables. Easy enough."

"I was here some time ago," said Jauffree, "I had thought that this place was deserted, and I'd spoken to Lord Kelvyn about setting up a Blades garrison here in Chorrol."

"Well, it's quite different than when you were here last." Said Quinn, she pulled the doors open, holding them that way so Martin and Jauffree could step inside, immediately the three were greeted by a Breton in heavy steel armor,

"Good Morning ma'am." He smiled, "There was a courier from Bravil this morning from some Haskill fellow… do you know anybody with that name?" Martin let his jaw drop a little bit as he saw the grandeur of the place, it was brightly lit with flush red carpet and bright vibrant tapestries. Jauffree followed him as he walked forwards past Quinn and the Battlehorn soldier.

"That grouchy little man sent me something?" she mused, "Huh, what was in it?"

"I didn't open the package, but it hummed when I shook it so I suspect that it's enchanted. There was also a letter attached, that I did open."

"Thank you, please head back to your duties, Baldrick."

"Yes ma'am." He nodded, "Good day."

"How in Oblivion did you get this, Quinn?" asked Martin, pointing at the daedroth, "This thing must be five times your size!"

"I surprised it didn't eat you." Said Jauffree.

"It did eat me." Quinn rubbed her nose, "I crushed its heart in my fist." She mumbled, blushing, "Uh… let me show you the rest of the trophy hall."

"There's more?" Martin followed her at a quick gate, "By the Nine! An _Ogre_?" he scratched his head, "Half of these things are twice your size, how did you kill them?"

"I'm trained to." She said quietly, Jauffree patted the stuffed wolf on the head,

"This is impressive, Ne Quin-al, the last time I scrapped with a Minotaur I barely survived, and that was with _help_." He nodded, "The Emperor's faith was well placed."

"I haven't even shown you the rest of the castle." She said, changing the subject, "Come on, I'll show you the dining hall." The hall was grand as well, Martin cleared his throat, "When a Brother or Sister from the Dark Brotherhood got a price on their head, I'd let them stay here and lay low as a Battlehorn soldier."

"Some of this food is a little bit odd…" Jauffree picked up a strange purple fruit, "What's this?"

"Alocasia fruit."

"Where's it from?"

"The Shivering Isles." Said Quinn, Jauffree sniffed it, and took a bite. "They're very good."

"And exceptionally sticky…" Jauffree grunted as his fingers stuck together, he had to suck the juices off in order to move them.

"The training room is in the basement, the taxidermist is on this floor along with the barracks, and upstairs is my library, kitchen, and bedroom." She motioned them up a nearby flight of stairs. Once up the stairs they had to pass over the trophy hall, and there were more trophies in cases nearby, "I save things from my travels, books and weapons mainly."

"What are these?" asked Jauffree,

"Volendrung.'

"Malacath's hammer?" asked Martin,

"And the Ring of Kajiiti, which is a lot of fun if you use it right. Sanguine's Rose, Azura's star, The Skull of Corruption, Wabbajack –"

"What's a 'Wabbajack'?" asked Jauffree,

"A gift given to me by Sheogorath." She smiled widely, "It's so much _fun_!" Martin shook his head,

"It's not a joke, Quinn." He scolded,

"Of course not, but I'm careful."

"You shouldn't use it at all." Martin snapped, Quinn frowned,

"Come on, let me show you my room." She led them into her room, "To your left is my kitchen, and my office, and straight ahead is my personal library." She walked into the room farther, "And this is my bedroom." She motioned to the bookshelves crammed with dusty tomes and weapons glittering on the walls. "Tonight, Martin, this is your room. Oh! And I have a present for you."

"Me?"

"Wait right here." She darted off to her trophy room, and came back lugging a heavy book with her, "Here…" she slammed it down on the table, "This is for you."

"What is it?"

"A book from Hermaeus Mora." She shoved it at him, "He told me that as soon as I'm done reading it, it will disappear. I want _you_ to read it."

"…There has to be a catch."

"Not from what I've seen, I earned this fair and square."

"I don't know –"

"Try it!"

"All right…" he tentatively opened the first page, and read the first few lines, "Hmm… it's enchanted, 'to those who wish to learn the ways of metal and fist'… It's a training book."

"Oh?"

"One or two of these have popped up during the course of history. I can't decipher all of these symbols right now, I need time." He looked up at Quinn, "Thank you."

"You like it?"

"Yes. During my time at the chapel, research was a hobby that none of us could afford, most of my time was spent reading the blessings of the Nine and giving sermons." He sighed, "It's been some time since I've been able to get my hands on a book like this…"

"It may come in handy." Said Quinn, "So, you get settled in, while I open up my present from Haskill."

"Who's Haskill?"

"He's the Chamberlain to Lord Sheogorath." She said, Martin swallowed hard, "Want to see?"

"No." he said hurriedly, Quinn looked puzzled,

"I see…" she bit her lip, "Call me if you need anything." It only took a moment for her to disappear, then reappear. "Read this." She handed the letter to Martin.

"Why?" he asked, he took the letter and read it, fretting slightly as he did so:

_"With Greetings from the Shivering Isles,_

_Honored Duchess, I write to you now because our Lord is currently busy playing with his brain pie and tonic. He'd have written you himself, but find it rather boring and plain, so he leaves the task to me._

_Our Lord Sheogorath has become increasingly needy as of late. He blames it on you, to be perfectly blunt, and misses your company, He also wishes to meet the Imperial that follows you. Though I have no idea what He's talking about, Our Lord says that He and this 'Martin' person have met before. If you wish to bring your counterpart to the Shivering Isles, kindly do so, but Our Lord had made it known that He expects your new 'friend' to use your time wisely._

_I'd also like to mention that because of His loneliness He's taken to having fits of rage rather like a drunken child, and has taken a particular delight in throwing some of the Mazken and Aureal into the air and stomping on their feet. I don't know what has gotten into Him, but He was very adamant that I procure this item for you, and had said that it would have great significance to you within the coming years._

_Open the gift, and do be careful, it took ever so long for me to find it._

_Haskill"_

Martin put the letter down,

"You've met?" asked Quinn, Martin shrugged,

"In another life…"

"Very well… what does the bottom part mean?"

"What makes you think I know?" Martin asked defensively, Quinn averted her eyes, "I'm not hiding anything from you, Quinn, I just don't want to tell you now, that's all."

"What's in the box?"

"You really want to know?"

"Yes."

"Open the box, then." Said Martin. Quinn ripped it open and rustled through the brightly colored packing paper, uncovering something that glowed so brightly the two were blinded. "…Hellawes." Martin picked it up,

"That's quite a gift." Said Jauffree, "A sizable specimen as well."

"What's it for? It looks like the glowing crystals I've seen in the Ayleid ruins." Asked Quinn.

"It's called the Hellawes, the Growing Stone. It's rare, mostly being found in Seed Shards, but if given enough attention it grows…" Martin trailed off as it slowly lengthened, a branch like tendril snaked out, and a tiny, flat, leaf shaped object sprout from the end of it, "into whatever you wish."

"How does it work?"

"You charge it." Said Martin, "Not like you charge an enchanted weapon, but with your own personal energy." He lifted it from the palm of his hand, wincing, "But you have to be careful…" she saw tiny little roots poking out from the bottom of the stone, which had apparently stabbed into his palm. Martin handed it to Quinn, "Try it."

"I'm not so sure…" she hesitated, and took hold of it gently, "You put some of yourself in this?"

"Partially."

"…What part?" she asked, Martin didn't answer, he just stared at the stone sadly, "Martin?"

"Oh… bits and pieces… Quinn I have something I need to tell you." He said quickly, Quinn glanced up and paused from amusing herself with the glowing stone. "It's important."

"What's wrong?"

"Uh, Jauffree, can we have a moment?"

"Is this really the time for things like that?" asked Jauffree, Martin rolled his eyes,

"If Martin says it's important then it is. What's the matter, Brother Martin?" Quinn asked again.

"Don't call me that." Martin shook his head, "I… I'm going to leave the Order."

"But why?" asked Jauffree,

"Because." Martin's face flushed, and his knees felt funny again, he didn't notice as Quinn's attention was drawn away from him. "Because I –"

"_Ne Quin-al!_" the shout was angry, and Quinn quickly handed the stone over to Martin, "You incompetent little _wench_!" Lucien stormed into the room, Jauffree held out his arm and held the assassin back. "I give you one simple task and you leave a loose end?! Release me!" he pulled away from Jaffree, "I have business with your 'escort'."

"Who let you in, Lucien?" she asked calmly, Lucien fumed,

"I let myself in! I nearly had to kill the damn guard captain before I found you, _now what in Sithis's name are you playing at?!_"

"I did as you asked, I killed everyone in the Sanctuary." She said stoically, Lucien was taken aback at her ability to finally look him dead in the eye. Lucien glanced up at Martin,

"You. Priest. Leave us." He barked, Martin glowered at him, "And the same goes for you, Blade."

"I'm not going anywhere." Martin snarled, Jauffree nodded,

"I stand with Brother Martin."

"You stand with him?" Lucien asked, "You don't even know if he's the actual _heir_, and yet you already put complete faith in him?! A _Priest?_!"

"Martin." Martin felt Quinn's hand on his shoulder, "It's okay, just go to my library, I have a reference for deadric runes, you can use it for the book I gave you."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm fine." She smiled wryly, Lucien's eyes narrowed, "Go on." Martin shook his head as he made his way towards the unorganized stacks of books, disappearing around the corner. Jauffree didn't move,

"I stay." He said, Quinn shook her head,

"With all due respect, Grandmaster, this is private business. I can handle myself." Quinn smiled gently, Jauffree looked skeptical,

"Very well." He snorted, "I'll run my errand, then." He nodded to Quinn, and left. Lucien paced like an angry troll, snarling under his breath.

"The Vampire was _alive_ when I reached the Sanctuary." Lucien hissed, "I had the slice the creature's throat myself!"

"I couldn't kill Vicente and you knew it."

"You knew your duty and disobeyed _me_?!" Lucien seemed insulted, "_Me?_ And your sudden affection for your new Imperial pet, what is that?!" Lucien raged, "Did you even find out if he was a Septim?!"

"No, the Amulet was stolen." Quinn stated, Lucien seethed even harder,

"Have you lost your love for Sithis, sister?"

"Perhaps." She glared at him, "And maybe perhaps he never loved us."

"He does not know love, only fear, hatred, and doubt. _We_ are the ones who love him."

" 'And you shall show dark love unto your brethren.'" She quoted, "'And shall not harm lest there be reasonable doubt.'"

"Don't pull that on me, you promiscuous little bookworm." He snarled, "This has gone on long enough… Priest!" he called, drawing his blade, "Get in here! _Now_!"

"You touch him," warned Quinn, "And I will end you before you can land a second blow." Lucien scowled, "It's alright Martin, you can come in."

"…What's happened to you, sister?"

"Me?" she asked, "I finally realized what's worth protecting." Martin poked his head around the corner, then slowly edged his way inside. "I'll work with you, honored Speaker, I'll do your contracts, but consider your list of friends one person shorter." She glanced over at Martin, who stood nearby with a piercing gaze in Lucien's direction, "What other business do you have with me?"

"None, Silencer." He said quietly, "Though I wish to oversee your actions for the rest of this assignment."

"That is understandable, honored Speaker, you may use the barracks tonight."

"No, I believe I will sleep up above, the fort's outer wall… I have no patience for long hours of sleep, you know that Quinn."

"Very well, there are bedrolls in the barracks, ask any of my guardsmen." Said Quinn slowly. "You know where the door is."

"I do… Sithis be with you…" he glided away, Quinn and Martin were alone in the room. Quinn fell back into her chair,

"Are you alright?" asked Martin,

"That was the most frightening things I've ever had to do." She whimpered, "I was so sure he'd kill you anyway." She put her face in her hands, "I need a drink…"


	12. The Speaker

It only took a short time for Quinn to return and Vicente to arrive and inform them of his departure

"I can feel the Vampire coming." The words were hollow as Jauffree stepped outside of Battlehorn castle, and glanced at Lucien. The Speaker's eyes were turned upwards, the clouds were still, as was the air, a faint chill seeping into both of the men. "I can feel the blood seeping through his body, his nose twitching with the scent of the blood of his brothers and sisters."

"What're you talking about, Assassin?" Jauffree kept and idle hand upon the Dai Katana,

"I left Vicente Valteri alive." He stated, "Gave him my blood as he lay dying."

"I've heard that Quinn grieves for her family, and her father Vicente. Martin spoke of your ill will." Jauffree pulled the katana partially from its sheath, "Explain yourself now, or be gone from this place." Lucien was surprised to see the young look behind the old monk's eyes, almost the same look the Vicente took on when in a serious situation.

"Punishment, for you little half breed escort." Lucien turned his back on Jauffree, who blanched,

"Half breed? Of whom do you speak?"

"Ne Quin-al, who else?" Lucien smirked and turned back to Jauffree, "What?" he said in a pouty mocking voice, his bottom lip pushing out, "Didn't the shy little thing tell you? Poor dear."

"It matters not to me what race she is. She was appointed by Emperor Uriel Septim, and she has been loyal thus far."

"And that is precisely why I've let the beast come at her with her scent, and the scent of her new pet." Lucien turned away again, "The Vampire is coming, with my blood in his veins, I can see his yearning to kill… barely."

"Then Quinn doesn't lie, you are a true assassin of the Dark Brotherhood." Jauffree's eyes glared at him, "But no one, not even a member of the Black Hand, has the ability to control a Vampire."

"He is weak now, and I fed him from my own wrist. He obeys me because his prize is in sight, and then it will be up to Quinn."

"It's been some time since I've had the blood of a Speaker on my hands," Jauffree pulled the blade from its hold entirely, "But I can stop you. Call him off, _now_."

"I cannot." Lucien said, annoyed, "He's coming, and we can't dawdle the way you'd like. Maybe you and your little Usurper can make a head start to Bruma tomorrow morning?"

"What's your game? Quinn did as you asked, and you still wish to make her life a misery?" Jauffree snorted loudly, "I'm getting tired of this half assed treaty between us, Speaker."

"As am I. Come at me so I may end it."

"You think I'm stupid enough to put Ne Quin-al and Martin in danger? If you are so thirsty for combat, strike the first blow yourself. But if you are too frightened of an old man, what kind of warrior are you?" Jauffree challenged, Lucien grunted, "I see no point in this, we can circle around each other and growl, but it will come to no good." Jauffree turned his back on Lucien.

"Why turn your back on me when you know I could slit your spine open in a heartbeat?"

"Because I know that you are incapable of taking me by surprise." Jauffree started back down the stairs to the courtyard. "Try me, worm, I'll give you a lesson in battle that you won't soon forget." Jauffree didn't turn, only continued into the castle, and through the doors. Lucien smirked silently,

"I feel things getting exciting…" he said slowly, "Shall I show him true darkness, Mother?" he asked to the cold wind, there was no response, the moon hid slightly behind a veil of wispy clouds. "Shall I take Quinn as my own, and leave the Usurper in a pool of his own blood?!" he glared up at the heavens. His fists clenched, "Give her to me! Her darkness and flesh truly belong to me! I have waited ten years for my visions to give way to her true form!" he glared at the large and full moons as they climbed from behind the clouds, "I've seen her, cloaked in red! I've seen her held by the golden wings of Akatosh! Darkening him! I _created _her for that purpose! When will she be _mine_?!" A flurry of leaves whipped about below him, "Why does the mighty crown and amulet of Uriel Septim hang from her body?! Why must I rip apart her heart to form it anew?! Why do you tell me these things, and let her only walk away?!" the moons said nothing, "_Answer me!_" he glared expectantly at the stormy clouds that started to form, "Father?! _Why do you hide in silence?!_" The tense rage in his body poured from him in a loud and piercing scream, slicing open the thick, cold night. So loud it was, that a wolf nearby let out a few yips and howls, retreating away, and crows flew from their perch in a tree nearby. So long it lasted, that he heard several of the guardsmen in the castle wake up and hurry out to see what was going on. Lucien's fist came around and slammed into the ground, his knee bent and his knuckles bruised and bleeding, as the guard captain ran up behind him.

"Sir?" he tried, the heaving and panting form of Lucien Lachance didn't move, "Are you alright?"

"Go back to bed, meatsack. You don't wish to converse with the Night."

"I don't."

"Good evening, then, meat." Lucien stood, and motioned him away. When the clanking of boots and swords disappeared, Lucien bared his teeth in a snarl, "_Martin Septim…_" he clenched his broken hand, letting the pain heighten his senses and wake up his sluggish body. "_I will drink the blood of Akatosh… I will eat your heart…_" he let out a loud and angry snarl, "_I swear it to the infernal and unholy Darkness, __I will destroy you!_"


	13. The Bastard

_It was very quiet in the tunnels beneath the Imperial city, Quinn hugged her knees as she sat, biting her lip at the looks of hate that Glenroy kept shooting at her. She tried not to hold it against him, but every time she looked towards the Emperor he'd get an angry scowl on his face. It was still silent, they had stopped briefly so the Emperor could rest for a few hours, hiding in a small tunnel surrounded by rubble and roots. Uriel didn't seem to care too much, and fell into sleep, while Baurus nodded off against his will._

_"Have you ever hunted Vampires before?" Glenroy spoke quietly, Quinn shook her head. "They're a hungry and vicious bunch. I doubt you'd hold up very well after seeing them in action." Quinn bit her tongue and restrained herself from telling Glenroy of the person who had raised her since she was a girl, averting her eyes. "But what's most frightening about them is that they are clever and ruthless. A Vampire Patriarch will tear apart and devour his entire coven just to survive. He'll eat through his own brother to get at his meal, and he will do it without flinching." He kicked a rock towards the end of the hallway, a very sour look on his face, "A friend of mine, many years ago, went and scouted outside Cloud Ruler Temple at rumors of a Vampire looking to expand his territory. He didn't come back for six days, and when he did, he had friends." Glenroy didn't look at Quinn, "Not exactly the kind of 'friends' we were hoping for…It took a minute or two, but we saw by his condition that he was turned, fully, a three day old fledgling, and he'd led his new Patriarch right to us."_

_"What happened?" asked Quinn,_

_"Grandmaster Jauffree and I were cornered in the kitchen, the others had been either locked up or eaten, the place was swarming with them. I got a good hit into the Patriarch, and he was dying, and he reached over…" he grabbed the top of her head and made a yanking motion, "And ripped the top of his skull right off, sucking down the juices and diving down on him like nothing. Eating right through him, just to get the greater goal: us."_

_"…What're you saying?" asked Quinn._

_"I'm saying that for a woman, your combat skills are good." He spat, "For some half breed harlot you're doing a damn decent job in fooling the other two, but I know the truth." Quinn shrank back against the wall as Glenroy stood up, looming above her. "You'd eat your way through your assassin friends, like they were skooma and sweetcake, but when the time comes you'll be the death of our Emperor." Quinn said nothing, Glenroy jabbed her with his boot, bruising her thigh, "Some Kajiit bitch like you doesn't even deserve to be here! You're lucky Uriel is allowing you to follow us!" Quinn didn't know why, but his words were getting to her. She'd grown a thick shell to racist comments and lude remarks, but the angry Imperial before her held so much spite in his voice that Quinn actually felt the burning hate and sadness._

_"I'm assuming the Vampire Patriarch was a Kajiit." Quinn breathed, trying her best not to let tears fall._

_"A great red Kajiit, with green eyes." Said Glenroy, "How funny that he looked so much like you. How many litters were there before a defect like you came about? Who'd he have to fuck in order to –"_

_"__Glenroy__." Glenroy froze his eyes big with embarrassment and fear as Uriel spoke, Baurus now awake and glowering at the other Blade. "Leave us, both of you." Baurus stood up, but Glenroy didn't move,_

_"Sire I –"_

_"__Leave__." he spat. Glenroy hesitated before running out, Baurus right behind him. It took a moment for Uriel to lose his angry gaze and look at Quinn. "Come over here, Quinn." She did so slowly, moving to where he had motioned, and sat beside him, "Your past hurts you, as does mine." He blinked sadly, "I apologize for Glenroy's behavior."_

_"It's alright, sire… he's right to be suspicious."_

_"Is he?"_

_"Well… I have been trained in combat, I'm an Eliminator." She admitted, hiding her face in her knees as she hugged them. Uriel's face grew thoughtful, not distrusting or displeased like Quinn had expected._

_"You're from the Dark Brotherhood?" he asked, she nodded._

_"Yes… I didn't want to tell Baurus or Glenroy, but now you know that I am no threat to you." She said, Uriel nodded,_

_"I see…is that why you were in prison?"_

_"…No…" she swallowed hard, "Someone in the market district claimed that I had stolen something, though I had done nothing wrong. Some racists who had noticed me earlier supported him, and while being thrown in a cell…" she shrugged, "The guards who were there got a little bit fresh."_

_"What happened?" Uriel seemed stern at that, "What do you mean?"_

_"I defended myself against their… advances. And I got put in the cell, far away from the others, to rot."_

_"You hurt them?"_

_"I killed them." She hid her face deeper into her knees, "I was just going to sit down and do my time, but I got so __scared__ –"_

_"I think it was a just punishment for them." Uriel finally stated, "You have my pardon. My __complete__ pardon."_

_"Thank you sire, but… how can you say that to me knowing what I am?"_

_"Because I know you."_

_"You don't know my Order."_

_"Do you know the process in which the Septim line and Dark Brotherhood come to terms?" Uriel asked, Quinn shrugged,_

_"Not exactly." She bit her lip,_

_"Every ten years, or with the death of a Speaker or Listener, the newest member of the Black Hand will meet with an Emperor in secret to discuss the terms of the treaty." He explained, "When I first became Emperor, I met with Juliana Benoit, she was vicious and ignorant, head of the Cheydinhal Sanctuary. The second time I met with a Speaker, it was because she had passed away, do you know who that Speaker was?" Quinn shook her head. "Lucien Lachance, you know him, don't you?"_

_"I do."_

_"I could tell by the way you fought, both Lachance and Valteri had their claws on you." He said, "And I know you've been more exposed to Valteri."_

_"How?"_

_"He thought before he spoke, always gentle and intelligent." Said Uriel, "From what I have heard, he's been meeting with Emperors for over two hundred years, is that right?" he chuckled as Quinn nodded. "I don't fear him, even with the type of person he is."_

_"But… we're murderers, sire."_

_"I'd rather your Brotherhood do the deed than some random rapist or serial killer." Said Uriel, "When I hear that a wealthy politician was murdered quietly in his home for taking advantage of a little girl, I know who did it."_

_"Why is the ritual to the Night Mother illegal?"_

_"Part of the treaty is this: the Imperial guard will stop a ritual that has to do with a person being killed for selfish or evil reasons." Said Uriel, "And that is why Lucien Lachance frightens me."_

_"Why?"_

_"Because he is cold, intelligent, courteous, and cruel." He got a disgusted and worried look on his face, "I saw him kill his own Silencer."_

_"But… sire, Lucien would never do that." She said, "He's got a dark mind, but I don't think that he would hurt any of his brothers or sisters."_

_"Be mindful of him." Uriel warned, "Age can turn a mind sour." He bit his lip, "I worry for you."_

_"Why?" asked Quinn,_

_"I'm going to tell you something, something very close to my heart, Ne Quin-al."_

_"Why me?" she asked, surprised, Uriel smiled slightly,_

_"I have done things that I am not proud of, but do not regret." He said, "My Empress is not the sweet woman she was portrayed to be. My life began to grow dry and barren, no life within me, no children to carry on my name… Until one night…" he gripped the Amulet of Kings, his eyes turning to the floor. "I had a vision, that the great Dragon of Akatosh was born from the womb of another woman, but not my Empress."_

_"What did it mean?" asked Quinn,_

_"His name is Martin." Uriel said slowly, turning his eyes up to her, "And his mother was the same woman who I saw birthing the fiery Dragon in my dreams." Quinn felt the heat in her face increase,_

_"You have another son, sire?" she bit her lip,_

_"My __last__ son." Uriel said. "Caula couldn't bear children after a time, it seemed impossible. When she became depressed I requested another Blade come and attend to her. And unfortunately I fell for the Blade."_

_"Unfortunately? You're the Emperor, it's not like she was stuck __Pelagius__." Quinn pointed out._

_"Caula made her miserable." said Uriel, "Humiliating her whenever she could, keeping her away from me."_

_"Was this while she was dying?"_

_"Yes. Lucia was miserable, having to hide her feelings from me, and mine from her. But when she became pregnant, the Empress found out." Uriel looked up at Quinn, "I had to hide him away and lie to him. Even though she was dying already, I had to hide him, she was a vicious woman." He said, spitefully. "And she banished Lucia."_

_"It's for his own good."_

_"No parent should lie to their child." Said Uriel, "I need your help correcting my mistake, of sending her and Martin away. I had to tear the two of them apart, __no one__ has the right to do that to their own child." He looked so angry, he crushed the amulet in his fist._

_"Why me? Why do you trust –"_

_"I need your help." Said Uriel, "I fear that I may ruin his life by doing this, but I can't risk the future of Tamriel now that my other children are dead. I have no choice but to tell him the truth."_

_"Does he know?"_

_"No. But in my dreams he knew you." Said Uriel, "I want him to know I cared enough to send him away, but I don't think I have enough time. I fear these may be the final days of my life."_

_"Please don't say that, sire. He'll want to hear it from __you__, not me, he'll want to meet __you__."_

_"You must care for him." Said Uriel, "This is the one thing I charge you with, Ne Quin-al, you must protect my son." He said, "He must take my place on the throne, but it's not something that he will want to do."_

_"Who is he?"_

_"I only know what I've been told, not wanting to risk his safety by speaking to him myself." Said Uriel, "He looks exactly like me, though he has Lucia's eyes…" he smiled sadly, "He's intelligent, and capable with magic, just like me, but like his mother he has a will of iron, and a quick tongue." Quinn tried to picture a younger version of Uriel, a harder blush coming into her face as she did so._

_"Is he a mage?"_

_"No… the last I've heard, he is a priest." Said Uriel, "Devoted to Akatosh."_

_"Then I don't see why he would agree to follow me to safety. I… I'm a servant of Sithis, sire."_

_"You have my pardon, remember?" Uriel said softly,_

_"How can you tell me that?" asked Quinn, "How do you know I'm not lying? I am an assassin after all."_

_"I know people better than you think."_

_"Then why will a pious priest of Akatosh follow an insignificant woman, a half breed assassin lowlife, to a salvation only his father could see?"_

_"He will follow you." Said Uriel, "Because he loves you." Quinn blanched, watching Uriel avert his eyes, "That's a Septim's only weakness, I think."_

_"…Love, sire?"_

_"Love."_

_"Love __me__?" she bit her lip, "Why?"_

_"You haven't observed yourself, have you?" said Uriel, raising an eyebrow, Quinn blushed even harder, but looked away,_

_"I don't see why." She said, Glenroy's words beat their way back into her mind. Her eyes welled with tears, "Why would he have anything to do with a beast like __me__?" she felt tears work her way down her face. She wanted to get up and run away, embarrassed that she was bawling in front of the most powerful man in Tamriel. But he said nothing, gazing at her with a sympathetic face. "I know why Baurus and Glenroy don't trust me, even some of my own friends don't look at me with a straight face. My own father let me leave Elsweyr because he knew I'd be in danger. I can't even go home, the people hate me there, too." Uriel's thumb wiped a tear from her cheek, and her hiccuping stopped._

_"You are perfect, Quinn." He said, removing his hand, "No race can define that quality. Your inner self is pure, and untainted, and needs to grow." Said Uriel, "You will not lose that now, and you never will. It will make you vulnerable, but you cannot fight against what you know to be true."_

_"How do you know that?"_

_"Because Martin is the same way." Said Uriel, "Because __I__ am the same way." Quinn sniffled softly, "Quinn, no matter what happens, Martin will not abandon you."_

_"How do you know I won't scare him away?" Quinn sniffled again, rubbing her nose, "I frighten some people."_

_"I don't know that." Said Uriel, "But you'll know when you see him." Said Uriel,_ _"Tell him the truth, be with him whenever you can. And you will find your own path."_


	14. The Burning Blood

It was quiet on the road, Quinn barely could keep her eyes off Martin, who seemed exhausted and drained. They'd been walking for days, two days in fact, and only when they'd reached the Silver Road did Jauffree put his foot down and force Lucien to cease his relentless guiding and let them sleep for the night. Martin sat against a thick tree, staring up at the clouds which threatened snow,

"We're almost there, Martin." Quinn sat next to him, plopping on the ground and smiling nervously, "You'll be safe there."

"What'll you do?" asked Martin, Quinn shrugged,

"I hadn't really thought about it." She said, "I guess I could hang around. Someone needs to take care of you." She punched him affectionately in the shoulder, "Besides, I think Uriel would have wanted me to be there with you until you're safe in the palace."

"In my mind," Martin sighed, "I _know_ I am his heir. I just don't feel as if it is true."

"You can look at a book all day, but if the words mean nothing to you, then why bother reading?" Quinn shrugged, Martin nodded, "_I_ feel that you are his heir. You would too if you had spent five minutes with his Highness." Martin looked at her oddly,

"For a girl your age you're very wise."

"And for a man your age you're very skittish." Said Quinn, "I know you don't think I'm stupid, which is why I'm wondering why you haven't told me what's on your mind." Martin's face became surprised, "Something has been on the tip of your tongue for the past few days."

"Well… yes." Said Martin, "I've been meaning to tell you when no one was around so I wouldn't be laughed at."

"No one is around." Said Quinn, "And _I'm_ not likely to laugh at you."

"Uh…" he scratched his head, "How do I say this…"

"What? Are you allergic to cats? Because really, you do look ghastly whenever I'm around you." This provoked a smile from Martin, but he shook his head,

"Not allergic." He rolled his eyes, "The exact opposite."

"Cat fetish?"

"No."

"Ohhh, Martin, I didn't think you were _kinky_."

"_Quinn_." He put his hands over his face, laughing into them, "Please stop." She said nothing, "Now I've lost my train of thought." He sighed,

"Didn't want people to laugh at your cat fetish."

"It isn't a _cat_ fetish, it's an apparent fetish for assassins." Martin sighed, Quinn blushed,

"Ohhh… you got somethin' for Lucien! I knew it!"

"_Quinn!_"

"I know, I know, you think I've got a nice bum." She smiled cheekily, showing teeth, Martin sighed again, "I'm an assassin, not an airhead, I notice these things. So out with it, say what's on your mind."

"I really like you, Quinn. More than I should." Said Martin,

"More than you should? What's that supposed to mean?" she asked,

"I… I've grow rather fond of you over the past week, really in no time at all." He scratched his head again. Quinn blushed a little bit, "I really don't mean to embarrass you." He fell on his side, rolling onto his back, "Forget I said anything."

"You didn't embarrass me." She said quietly, but he didn't hear her as the bushes near them rustled. He scooted towards Quinn, and breathed with relief as it turned out to be a tiny Scrib, sniffing around in the cold dirt and leaves. It squawked at them indignantly, as if they were in the way, and continued up a tree, disappearing into the dark brown foliage. Martin sighed, "I think we should stay together, with Lucien and Jauffree."

"Wonderful." Martin nodded, "Near the jealous assassin."

"I wouldn't worry about him, Grandmaster Jauffree has him under control."

"The old man?"

"Don't underestimate him." Said Quinn, standing up, "Don't look at age, I mean, even his Majesty was a formidable man…" she rubbed her nose with her index finger, then bit the tip of the finger as Martin stood and dusted off the seat of his robes. "I have a question for you Martin."

"What is it?"

"That woman in the chapel, then one you were sitting with, what was her name?"

"Lucia." He said, "Why?" Quinn bit her lip, and then shook her head.

"Nothing, I'll tell you later." She waved it away, "But, I'd like to tell you some things that Uriel told me, about your mother." Martin blinked, "She was a Blade, and she was the Empress's attendant and guard. She was strong, and she, as far as he knew, was still alive, and looking for you." Martin said nothing, just stared at her blankly, "I can't tell you any more, because I don't want to compromise her safety by revealing her identity."

"You know who she is?" he asked, Quinn nodded,

"I promise I'll tell you, but only when we are in Cloud Ruler Temple."

"She may even be there." He rubbed his face with his hands, then looked back up at Quinn, "Thank you."

"I wanted to tell you sooner, but we had other things to do." She said. Martin took a gentle grip of her hand, and put it to his mouth. Quinn blushed profusely as he kissed the back of her hand, and then pulled her closer to him in a hug.

"For everything. Thank you."

"You act like I'm going to be gone tomorrow!" Quinn said nervously, "I'm not going anywhere."

"I hope not." Martin released her, she recovered quickly,

"We have to rest." She said, "We need to sleep so we can make it to Cloud Ruler Temple in the morning." Martin nodded.

But it was a chore for Quinn to get to sleep, even after the others had fallen into a heavy slumber. She tossed and turned, but the jitters in her body kept her awake for some time, and she finally dozed off as she heard deer padding through the soft grass nearby. Thoughts of Martin and Uriel drifted through her mind, of sadness, Vicente, and her anxiety about the Amulet.

* * *

When she awoke, it was because Jauffree was shaking her roughly.

"Ne Quin-al!" His breath came in a heavy fog, and she blinked herself awake, "He's gone!"

"Who's gone?" she sat up immediately,

"Martin!" said Jauffree,

"Don't be so hasty, Grandmaster, he may have gone to pee or something." Quinn stood quickly, "Any sign of where he is?"

"There are fresh tracks leading towards Cloud Ruler Temple, but I doubt that's where he's heading."

"Why is that?"

"There are two sets of tracks." Lucien said lazily, Quinn didn't turn around to look at him, "One is upright and walking a steady pace, the other is clumsy, eventually turning into drag marks."

"We think that the Vampire, Vicente, came for him." Said Jauffree. Quinn's eyes narrowed,

"Why would 'we' think that?" she asked, Jauffree seemed apologetic,

"…Lucien spared him." He said, Quinn's teeth bared, "He set him on your scent." Quinn was whirling around to Lucien, Jauffree heard a very feline snarl and hiss come from her throat as she slammed him backwards into the same tree that the scrib had scuttled up.

"_Silencer!_ Release me!" Lucien choked.

"You _knew_ about this!" she spat, "You set this up to kill Martin and make me suffer!"

"Now, now…" Lucien grinned coyly, "What makes you say that?"

"You _bastard_," she drew her dagger, "I'll _kill you!_"

"Quinn, _don't_." Jauffree stayed her hand, holding her wrist tightly, "We need his tracking skills if nothing else. And if you kill him the Dark Brotherhood may take it as a sign that the truce between them and the Septim line is forfeit." Quinn nodded and withdrew, "We need to find him, and that is the only thing we need to think about right now." He gripped her shoulder gently, releasing her wrist, "Let's move, the tracks are fairly fresh, and we may be able to catch up to them if we hurry!" He immediately turned, and with a spryness an old man of his age shouldn't possess, he bounded down the road, following the footprints. Quinn followed quickly, finding that the tracks went up the road for quite a distance, she noticed by their spacing that they were slow deliberate movements, almost like he _wanted_ them to find him, and they did, they spotted a black figure on the road ahead. It dragged its feet through the snow, stomping and kicking rocks back behind him to make a racket.

"_Vicente!_" Quinn quickened her sprint as fat snowflakes began to fall, the figure paused and turned as it rose to the top of a very steep incline, a large black shape dragging behind it. Quinn saw Lucien dart off the road and run at the Vampire at an angle. Vicente waved a mocking hand at them,

"Oho, so you caught up?" he didn't look right, his body was thin, his face was mangled, a thick trail of blood sunk into the fresh snow, Quinn saw his abdomen drip into the snow.

"Vicente it's _me_ you want!" Quinn shouted,

"If it was just _you_, you'd already be dead, Kitty." Vicente breathed, as Quinn drew closer a distinct smell wafted to her nose, it was coppery, and pungent, and Quinn could tell by the light and musky scent to it that it belonged to Martin. "Shh… he's sleeping… don't wake the boy up by _shouting_." Vicente's finger pointed downwards at Martin, whose eyes were still closed. Jauffree and Quinn easily caught up with Vicente, who hadn't moved, who wanted them to catch up.

"He's toying with us." Jauffree hissed,

"_Martin!_" Quinn saw his hands were tied behind his back, his ankles tied together, and he lay on his stomach with his neck bleeding onto the cold ground. He panted heavily, blood and spittle drooling from his mouth, his eyes fluttering lazily as he tried to look at her.

"…Quinn…"

"No, no! Don't speak!" She felt Vicente's hand grab the back of her hair, and drag her backwards, tossing her to the side of the road where she slammed into the tree behind her. It was a cold wind that hit her, and Vicente was at her front, crushing her into the wall as she felt his paralysis spell hit her, and an intense pain in her stomach. A warm sensation ran down her abdomen, and the dagger stuck out of her at an odd angle as Vicente let her fall to the ground.

"Ne Quin-al!" Jauffree charged forwards, Vicente's senses were obviously dulled, because before he shoved Jauffree to the side with another paralysis spell, Jauffree sliced open the Vampire's gut. Jauffree fell to the side, next to Martin,

"Now… let's talk without distraction, shall we?" Vicente still bled profusely onto the ground, the wounds that Lucien had given him were not healing, and Vicente looked wraith-thin and starving. He kneeled next to Martin and dug his fangs into his neck,

"Get off…" Jauffree growled. Vicente pulled away from Martin and spit a large mouthful of blood into Jauffree's face.

"Unless you want more than his blood on your face, I'd suggest keeping your mouth _shut_." Vicente turned back to Quinn, "You see this?" he pointed to Martin, who now coughed up blood on to the ground. "This thing, this _man_," he grabbed the back of Martin's robes and dragged him closer to Quinn, "Is what led you to betray your family? To betray _me_?" he pulled the dagger from her stomach, and Quinn saw Lucien hiding in the background, drawing his dagger.

"I had to protect him, he's the next heir –"

"Don't lie to me, you didn't protect this Imperial pig just because you have a strong sense of patriotism! You can fool Lucien, but you can't fool _me!_"

"I promised Uriel…" Quinn sobbed quietly,

"_That is __shit__!_" Vicente shook Martin violently, "Tell me the truth!" She said nothing, and he looked to Martin's still body, "You know… you weren't there when I fed on him, the many times I bled him to stay alive. He kept crying out to you, 'Help me, Quinn!'" Vicente dropped Martin and pouted out his bottom lip, " 'Where are you?!' 'Quinn, I need you!' Where were you when _I _was screaming these things?!" Vicente grabbed her hair, yanking it violently, and paused to roll his eyes only when he heard Martin's feeble voice,

"Don't…" he spat up blood, taking in a hoarse breath, "Don't touch her…" This got him a boot to his face, but Martin still grabbed the edge of Vicente's pants, trying to pull himself towards him.

"Get off of me!" Vicente ordered, but Martin yanked his dagger from his belt, slamming the blade into Vicente's leg. Vicente rewarded him with a kick to his face, making Martin's head loll, but he didn't loosen his grip.

"I'll _kill you_…" Martin snarled, Vicente felt Martin's hand becoming cold, so cold that the Vampire quickly lost feeling in his leg. Vicente yanked himself away in time to find out that the priest had frozen his lower leg solid. Martin pushed himself onto his feet, wobbling slightly,

"This is why you betrayed your family, eh?" he snorted, Martin coughed up more blood, "Really, Quinn, I intend to end this quickly, but let's have a dialogue before this over."

"… He's Dragon born." She said, Martin looked at her with a mix of fear and pity,

"_Enough! You actually expect me to believe that you ripped apart your entire family and betrayed me, just because we conflicted with your sense of patriotism?!_" He grabbed her head and slammed it into the ground, "Don't lie to me!"

"Get away from her!" Martin's fist suddenly connected with the side of Vicente's face, and the weakened Vampire fell back into a tree, tripping over Jauffree clumsily. Martin was on him, ripping the dagger from Vicente's leg and stabbing it into his chest. Vicente's felt another frost spell freeze through his neck, and he pushed back against Martin.

"_Stay down!_" Vicente struck Martin so hard that the priest flew backwards, skidding across the snow and dirt. Vicente wheezed and coughed, struggling to breathe through the frozen flesh of his neck, and he limped towards Martin, tripping over Jauffree again and falling to the ground. The Vampire stood, and dragged Martin over right next to Quinn, "Look into his face! Look him in the eye, and tell him why he's here now, and why he's been my snack!" he shook Martin again, the man now unconscious.

"I tried to _save you!_" Quinn sobbed, "I tried to be with you before Lucien came for you, and I tried to draw you away from the Sanctuary!"

"Tell me why you finally let me go back, without so much as a warning!" Vicente screamed into her face, "Tell me, _or I'll rip his eyes out!_"

"_I love him!_" Quinn cried. Vicente let out a surprised little breath, his eyes widening, and he dropped Martin on the ground in front of Quinn. Her wound bled profusely, blood seeping from her mouth and nose, and her hands reached out and touched Martin's face. "Martin? Can you hear me?" he didn't respond. His skin was cold against her hands, but her grip vanished as Vicente grabbed her by her feet and dragged her away from him. "_Martin!_"

"He's dying, Quinn." Vicente spat, as Martin went completely limp, the Vampire lifted Quinn up and slammed her against another tree,

"No, _stop it!_" Quinn begged,

"_Why should I?!_ When I see fit, I'll feed him from my own wrist, and I'll have him drink you dry!"

"Don't do this!" she pleaded, "Please! Kill me! Leave him alone!"

"_WHY DO YOU CARE __NOW__?!_" he grip on her throat tightened, she gagged and choked.

"Come… with us…" she choked, "To…Cloud Ruler Temple… The Black Hand… may spare you… you'll be safe…"

"You care for me and _yet you'd let me rot?!_" he averted his eyes, his hand crushing her throat, "You will die, and your pet will live in regret for the rest of time! I'll show him the same love I showed you, and we'll both watch this Empire crumble and _burn_!" His voice choked, his lip trembling and his eyes watering, his hand rested gently on her cheek, stroking it. "Quinn… _why didn't you try to __help me__?!_" he held a firm hand over the wound in his chest, his grip failing, and he let her fall to the ground, his breaths came shorter and shorter, and he coughed up ragged and mud-like blood, dark and old blood, falling back away from Quinn. Quinn's vision was blurry, she could barely see him, but she saw a dark figure rush up behind him, and strike him to the ground.

"Bleed_…_" the mass hissed, "Bleed and die." It pinned him to the ground, "You like to play with your food…_ don't you_?" Quinn didn't recognize the voice, it was eerie, and low, but it extended every syllable it said which made its words seem stretched. A faint red glow appeared in the mass's hand, Vicente let out a series of horrible cries, ripping and tearing noises made their way into Quinn's ears, she blinked blood and sweat from her eyes. The figure was in black robes, hunched over Vicente as the Vampire bled upon the ground, Quinn saw his right arm lying on the near her, as well as his left foot and seven of his fingers. "The funny thing about meat is…before you bleed it dry… you have to tenderize it." Vicente didn't fight the figure as it began to cut and stab at him with his own sharp dagger, tossing away pieces and fatty tissue, and Quinn heard the faint 'squish' noises as the dagger pierced him, the attacker's fists beating into him.

"No…" Quinn bit her lip, tears flowing down her cheeks, "Not… not like _that_…" Vicente turned his head to face her, and laid still after a time, limp and bleeding, and Lucien stood away from his corpse. "You… You _bastard_."

"I knew it." Lucien kneeled above her, waving a healing spell above her stomach so the wound closed, "Our Brotherhood could be destroyed, and I could rot and die, but you'd still stay with this wretched man." He looked over at Martin, "I knew that you cared for him the moment I saw you two standing together."

"Don't hurt him –"

"I can't." he spat, "He's Dragon born, remember?" Lucien stood away, "My part in this is over, Ne Quin-al. I'll escort you all to Cloud Ruler Temple, and then I will be out of the way." He glanced over at Jauffree as the spell began to wear off, and he wobbled to his feet, tending to Martin. Quinn kneeled next to Martin,

"Martin?" she whispered, Lucien passed a healing spell over him, then over Jauffree, "Martin, wake up." She gently stroked his forehead, brushing hair out of his face. Jauffree suddenly felt a hand grab his leg, and he turned around and paused as Vicente let out a rattling breath.

"He… he is… the real heir…" he wheezed, Lucien looked over at him tiredly, "…You can save… him…" the holes that Lucien had put into him burbled and oozed, but he still spoke. Vicente's mouth hung open loosely, his skin peeling and flaking away. "…Kitty…" Quinn turned, and he gripped her hand tightly, "…I'm sorry…" It was a moment before Jauffree realized he was dead, and Quinn let go of his hand, but soon the Vampires ashen skin and blood blew away in the brisk mountain air. Quinn felt Martin's hand on her arm, a tired grunt escaping his mouth as he sat up and saw Quinn teary face.

"Thank Talos you're alright." Jauffree sighed with relief, "How're you feeling?" Martin said nothing, his eyes barely staying open, his hand staying on Quinn's arm, "Martin?"

"…I'm sorry…" Martin, with a great amount of effort, sat up. He was looking at Quinn as he spoke, "I… I didn't want to hurt him…" Quinn didn't speak, only turned away and lifted the dry corpse off the road and dragged it away. Jauffree rushed to help her, and when he did, Martin noticed that he and Lucien were alone. Lucien waved another healing spell over Martin,

"I'm absolutely certain that you are a Dragonborn," Said Lucien, "Because of the destruction you leave in your wake."

"Leave me alone." Martin said darkly.

"Your good intentions, your bravery, your selflessness, even your _love_ cannot absolve you of the guilt." Lucien said, Martin shook his head, "What can you do? You're only a man, you're only a _child_ in the face of this. What can pious man of Akatosh do, when he doesn't even know what lies ahead?" Lucien stood and moved some feet away, picking up a slushy ball of bloody snow, and he threw it in Martin's direction. It splattered a tree next to him, the cold water and blood slapping into Martin's face, but Martin didn't react.

"I'm not afraid of you." Martin said, in a low voice, "I know I should be, but I'm not."

"And why is that?"

"Because you're no better than me." Martin looked up at him, his stare hollow and exhausted, "You're weak, because you don't know how to use the power you have, and you are unloved because the people you care about turn away, or are destroyed by your incompetence." Martin steadied himself against a tree, and stood, "I don't think I'm a monster."

"A Dragon is still a monster, a dangerous beast."

"A coward is still a monster, it always has a knife hovering over your back." Martin said, coolly, Lucien looked seething, his eyes burned with rage and loathing.

"Watch your words –"

"What're you going to do?" asked Martin, "_Kill me_?" Lucien backed down, and Martin saw something in his eyes that he hadn't seen before. Was it… restraint? Boredom? Or was it… respect? Martin couldn't tell, because Quinn and Jauffree returned, and Lucien stalked away, up the road. Quinn walked over to Martin,

"You…" she put her hands on his face, holding it so he would look her in the eyes, "You… I could slap you silly right now, do you know that?" she let out a series of tired chuckles, they quickly turned into exhausted sobs of defeat. Martin drew her into an embrace, holding her to him as Jauffree watched Lucien on the road ahead, "You need to be more _careful_."

"I though Vicente was _safe_ to leave with." Said Martin, "No one told me he was a threat, how was I to know?" he asked, Quinn nodded, "I'm so sorry, Quinn."

"I know…"

"Please." Jauffree suddenly interrupted, "This incident has caused a loud commotion, I'm seeing activity through the trees, I don't know if it is man, mer, or animal, but I feel that it is time to go." Quinn nodded, and pulled away,

"We're nearly there." She said, "Are you ready, Martin?"

"I'm ready. Let's go."


	15. The Gold Cat

Martin always hated Bruma, the cold never really suited him. Though the Countess was beautiful, intelligent, and brave, the people there always seemed either drunk or cranky. Martin attributed the latter with the cold and snow. Now he trudged upwards past Bruma, on a steep hill towards… well Martin couldn't really _see _yet. He squinted, but the heavy snow blurred his vision, and it was so cold that his eyes kept freezing up. He rubbed them ruefully, and hurried along as he realized he had fallen behind. They rounded a bend in the road, and as they did they came upon a great wall, thick, with two large wooden doors. Jauffree sighed, pulling his hood down,

"Welcome to Cloud Ruler Temple." He grinned back at Quinn and Martin, "Come on, no doubt you're cold and hungry." He slammed his hand upon the great wooden doors, only to have them being pushed open already and a Redguard hurrying through. He was older, Martin recognized the armor on him as Akaviri armor, and he realized that he was a Blade, one of the bodyguards of the Emperor. Martin bit his lip and averted his eyes as the Redguard looked him over, and his eyes widened, looking to Jauffree,

"Grandmaster is this –"

"Yes, Cyrus." Jauffree smiled at Martin, "This is Martin Septim, son of Uriel Septim." Martin cringed,

"My Lord," Cyrus bowed politely at Martin, "Welcome to Cloud Ruler Temple, we've not had the honor of a visit from an Emperor for many years." Martin felt Lucien's elbow smack him in the back,

"Thank you." He blurted, "The honor is mine."

"Come," Jauffree motioned them ahead, "Your Blades are waiting for you." As the group traveled up the stairs, Martin hesitated, hiding behind Quinn.

"I don't feel right." He said, Quinn blinked at him tiredly, "I don't feel like I should be here."

"You're not the heir yet." Lucien suddenly chimed in, "You've yet to step into the role. Give it time, and grow up." He grabbed Martin by the arm and shoved him forwards behind Jauffree, "You can't hide behind her forever." Martin gripped his abdomen, which was turning and gurgling with hunger and nausea, and as they reached the top of the stairs, he saw a line of Blades, two lines, in fact, and Jauffree led him down the center of them. Quinn went and stood nearby, nearly out of sight, but Lucien stood closer to him, near the doorway to Cloud Ruler Temple.

"Blades." Jauffree called, Martin stood next to him as he came to a halt, turning to face them, "Dark times are upon us, the Emperor and sons are slain on our watch, the Amulet of Kings stolen. The Dragonfires are dark for the first time in centuries and chaos is now spreading through Cyrodiil." He looked to Martin, motioning to him, and the other Blades looked to him, "But there is hope, I bring to you now, Martin Septim, true son of Uriel Septim, and heir to the throne of Tamriel." Martin's ears rung loudly, and his head spun, as the Blades drew their swords, holding them in the air,

"Hail Dragonborn!" they saluted, "Hail Martin Septim!"

"Hail!" Jauffree held his sword up in salute.

"Hail!" They chimed, Martin felt very overwhelmed, but as Jauffree turned to him, he felt the need to speak, to say _something_ and not just stand there like an idiot.

"Jauffree… _everyone…_" He finally said, the Blades went silent, "You all expect me to be Emperor, I'll do my best, but this is all new to me… I'm…" he trailed off, losing his nerve, but them he got it again, "I'm not used at giving speeches, but… I want you all to know how grateful I am for your welcome here." he looked over at Lucien, and Quinn, who was peeking around a pillar, "I'll do my best, and I hope to earn your loyalty in the coming days." He sighed, "Well…" he felt awkward, most of the Blades seemed expectant, waiting for more words. "That's it, thank you." For some reason, they didn't seem disappointed by his lack of words, more contented and happy, almost _amused._ It didn't make him feel any better, but he still preferred that over them thinking he was a fool.

"Well, thank you Martin." Jauffree patted Martin warmly on the shoulder, looking to an older Imperial Blade. "We'd all best get back to our duties, eh Captain?" Martin swallowed hard, "I have some things to attend to, feel free to explore the Temple, it's going to be your home for a time." Jauffree walked away, and Martin quickly edged his way towards Quinn, hiding behind the pillar with her.

"Wasn't much of a speech, was it?" he asked, she giggled,

"I liked it. I thought it was endearing."

"I felt like an idiot, didn't seem to bother them, though." He scratched his head as Lucien came close, "So are you going to be here with me?"

"No. But that should come as good news to you." He spat, "I have other things to attend to."

"Aww, I'll miss you breathing down my neck." Martin snorted. Lucien glanced to his left, then back to Martin.

"I'm sure you will. You certainly will when more Daedric assassins have you by your throat." Lucien nodded politely to Martin, "Goodbye, your Highness." Martin frowned deeply at Lucien as he went, the Speaker cast a spell of Chameleon over himself before disappearing. Martin looked to Quinn, who guessed his thoughts,

"She may be here." She said, Martin nodded, Quinn placed her hand on his, squeezing it, and pulling him along, "Come on, we may as well make ourselves at home, and be sociable, these people will be protecting you after all." She tugged at him a little bit more, and finally got him to follow her into the temple's Great Hall. A large fire crackled in the fireplace, swords hung from the rafters, and Blades were sitting there reading, drinking, and talking during their off times. Martin couldn't help but become nervous as the Blades stared at him for long periods of time, and whisper among themselves, Quinn saw this, and pulled him along, "Let's look for the kitchen, you must be –"

"Ne Quin-al!" the two of them paused as they were approached by the Jauffree, "Good, since the two of you are still together, we can discuss our next move."

"We need the Amulet." Martin said, "I'm convinced that the darkening of the Dragonfires is what is letting the Oblivion gates open, so I need it as soon as possible."

"You're right." Jauffree said, "But first we need to find out who took it, Baurus is in the Imperial city with that very goal in mind. Quinn," he nodded at her, "Will you go the Imperial city and help him?"

"Of course." Quinn seemed to suddenly snap to attention, her eyes focused on Jauffree's face. "Where is he?"

"Luther Broad's Boarding House, meet with him and find out what he knows." He said, Quinn nodded, "Also, Quinn, despite your background and beliefs, you are a trustworthy companion and ally. You've stuck with Martin through many hardships, despite how little you know him. As Grandmaster of the Order I would be honored to accept you into our ranks, to make you a Blade." Quinn's jaw dropped with surprise, and she didn't respond. Martin elbowed her in the ribs,

"Me?" She gaped, "But… I'm from the Dark Brotherhood!"

"I don't see why not." Jauffree gained a puzzled look to his face, "You are an excellent fighter, your knowledge of tracking and stealth is superb, and I like you well enough." Quinn hesitated, but got elbowed in the ribs by Martin again,

"Yes." She blurted.

"Then our home is your home." Jauffree motioned them to follow, "There are two wings to Cloud ruler temple, the first wing is the kitchen and armory, and the second is barracks and Emperor's bedroom. You are welcome to use our services, food, bed, books, armor, and weapons."

"Thank you." She nodded politely,

"Here, I'll show you the Emperor's bedroom." He pointed to the wing on their left, and lead them up a flight of stairs, past the barracks, "There is always a Blade on duty outside the bedroom." He pointed at a large Nord who now nodded off as he stood, Jauffree patted his shoulder, shaking him, "Roliand! Wake up, boy, you're in the Emperor's presence!"

"Eh?" Roliand stumbled a little bit and blinked at Martin, it took a moment for it to register, but Roliand gasped. "God's blood! You found him!"

"He's staying here with us Roliand, and that means you have to _stay awake_." Jauffree sighed, looking to Martin and Quinn, "The bedroom to my right was my own during my time here. I think since Quinn will be the one guarding you, Martin, it should be hers now."

"Let me see the bedroom Martin will be in." Quinn said, Jauffree slid the door open,

"It's been quite some time since this room was occupied, but we've kept it secure."

"The windows are small, so there's less chance of someone coming into the room through there…" she bit her thumb, "Martin, make sure that these are always latched. A determined Vampire can always squeeze through." She glanced around the room, "What about weapons?"

"There are a few in here for display, but I'm afraid right now they're so old they'd be better as letter openers."

"Have one at every side of the bed within Martin's reach, including under it." Said Quinn, "Also, rig the windows with bells so that way if someone _does_ get in, the guard will hear it." Jauffree nodded, "Leave all food wrapped up and untouched, even go as far as using wax seals. And dispose of anything that is open, even if you only took your eyes off of it for a few moments." She was looking at Martin,

"You know an awful lot about this." Said Martin.

"I've had to break into homes and poison food before." She said, "It's the easiest way to kill a person. Be very wary."

"I'll have men guard the food stores, and Martin can prepare his meals himself or have someone of his choosing to do it for him." Said Jauffree, "As for the windows, I'll rig them with bells, and have a guard patrol beneath them." Said Jauffree, "Well… is that all, Ne Quin-al?"

"Yes, I think so."

"Good, come with me, I want to show you the armory." Jauffree looked to Martin, "Stay here and rest." He said, Martin nodded, sitting on the bed. He saw Quinn give a rueful glance backwards at him before disappearing. Martin sighed, falling backwards on the bed, pulling his feet up as his head rested on the pillows, and he felt sleep nag at him. It was quiet, except for the cold winds that hit the window, and the faint murmuring of the guards talking downstairs. He heard footsteps as his eyes closed, and when the door slid open again, Quinn stood there. He sat up,

"You're still here?" he asked, she nodded, "I thought you had an assignment from Jauffree?"

"I do, I just wanted to say good night." She said, smiling gently, she stepped farther into the room, "And before I left wanted to tell you something about your mother. Her name was Lucia." Martin let the information sink in, "I have to go."

"Thank you, Quinn." He said sleepily, "I just…" he trailed off, looking away,

"What's wrong, Martin?"

"I'll miss you."

"I'll be back soon." She smiled at him gently, "The big bad Emperor can handle a group of friendly loyal servants by himself, can't he?"

"That's just it. They think I'm _him_." He scowled, "They think I'm just another form of Uriel Septim!"

"They think that you are an Emperor." Said Quinn said softly, "They need someone to guide them."

"They all expect me to know what to do, how to _behave_." He snorted, "I haven't the faintest idea…"

"You need rest, Martin," she assured him, "Sleep on it. I'll be back soon."

"I'm sorry Quinn, I don't mean to sound ungrateful."

"You don't, you're just worried sick about this like the rest of us." She stood next to him, putting both hands on his shoulders and squeezing them gently, "You can do this." Martin stared her in the eyes, swallowing hard, "Even an Emperor is a mortal man, you need to sleep, you need to eat, and you need time to think." Martin nodded, she pinched his cheek roughly, grinning, "I'll be back soon, promise."

Jauffree was waiting for her as she stepped out and shut the door behind her, motioning for her to follow him back into the kitchen. She waited for him to speak for a moment or two, then he stated, with some breathlessness:

"Is what you said true?" he asked,

"What?"

"When we were being held by the Vampire." Jauffree hissed, "When you said you… loved Martin." Quinn nodded,

"It is, yes."

"And what do you plan to do about it?"

"I don't know. Nothing yet, though." Quinn bit her lip, crossing her arms over her chest, "Don't tell him."

"But he feels the exact same way about _you_."

"…I know."

"Then you know what you must do." Said Jauffree, Quinn raised an eyebrow, "When this is over, he is going to have to produce… heirs." Quinn started to giggle involuntarily, slapping a hand over her mouth, "He needs an Empress, one who has connections like you, and who can protect both him and his children." Quinn was still giggling, "Oh, please don't laugh… I feel awkward as it is talking to you about this."

"You automatically assume he's going to pick _me_, Grandmaster Jauffree?" Quinn shrugged, "Martin is a good man, an honest and caring one, but just because he thinks I'm pretty and respects me doesn't mean I'm Empress material."

"There have been royal marriages for less than that."

"Like Caula Voria?" she asked, "And she made Uriel _so_ happy…" she snorted,

"Unlike Her Highness, you're a decent individual who can look past her own needs." Said Jauffree sourly, "If you won't be Empress, then what will you do when he is crowned? Will you leave when he needs you most?"

"I'd never leave him." She stated, pulling her hood up, "I'll always be there to protect Martin."

"Why?"

"I owe it to him, I owe it to Uriel, and I owe it to myself." She said, sternly, "As for heirs… maybe a half breed isn't the best idea for the Septim line, is it? I may look like a Breton, but I'm more than half Kajiit. What would the people say if a Kajiit took the throne?"

"The Septim like is not about _race_." Said Jauffree, "Pelagius's wife was a _Dunmer_, if you don't recall, and Martin's own mother wasn't an Imperial, but a Breton, whose father was a Nord. Diversity is the key to this Empire's survival, a Septim cub wouldn't do this line any harm as long as the blood within him is Septim blood."

"It's not the blood, it's the face on the Emperor." Said Ne Quin-al.

"That wouldn't matter." He said,

"Oh? What about a great white Kajiit, with the rare and cursed green eyes? My father was an outcast even to his own people, who had to fight his way to the top, why would a group of racists accept a child of mine?"

"A great white Kajiit?" Jauffree asked, "Green eyes? From what part of Elsweyr to you hail?" he asked. Quinn twisted her head so her neck would crack.

"Senchal."

"Your father is the Gold Cat, the skooma trader, Ya' Tirrje?" Quinn averted her eyes and nodded,

"You're a quick learner. You do your homework."

"The wealthiest Kajiit in the Senchal territory? It's not hard to find out what he looks like." She nodded again, "And you _left_?"

"I was considered my father's curse." She said, "My mother died birthing me, and he hid me from the world, until some of the people in the city found out and started to beat and harass me. He sent me away."

"That is yet _another_ contact that could benefit the Septim Empire!"

"We'll see if Martin and the Elder Council feel the same way, _if_ it even gets that far." She said, "One step at a time, Jauffree." She began to walk away, "If you'll excuse me, Grandmaster, I have the assignment in the Imperial City to attend to." As she walked away Jauffree rolled his eyes and bit his lip, kicking a chair away from the table and sitting down in it.

"Ya' Tirrje…" he felt a thought suddenly buzz into his head, and he immediately grasped it and contemplated it with a shrewd mind. "I think it's about time we meet the savior of Senchal."

* * *

Martin eventually opened his eyes, only because the blanket he had pulled over his head couldn't keep the light from his eyes anymore. He had had that dream again, the one with Quinn, and he rued the fact that she was no longer there with him. Martin sat up, knowing his hair was messy and tangled, combing it out with his fingers as he rolled out of bed and attempted to fix the sheets and blankets. When he did, he flopped back down on the bed, and rubbed his eyes, yawning deeply. When he cleared the morning fog and gunk from his eyes he could see that his breakfast was already laid out beside the bed, on the little stone shelf, and several books had been piled neatly on the bookshelf and desk. He stood glancing around, feeling sticky and thoroughly un-Emperor-like in his old black robes, and quickly found the dresser and another pair of deep blue robes for him to change into before diving on the breakfast of boiled eggs and buttered bread. He felt a little better after that, and finally ventured out after cleaning crumbs off of his lap, towards the center of the Temple, where he found Jauffree waiting beside the door.

"Ah, good morning, sire."

"Please don't call me that…" he groaned, "What time is it?"

"It is one in the afternoon, sire."

"Oh no…"

"Don't worry, you deserved the rest. Did you eat your breakfast?" But Jauffree seemed thoroughly uninterested in whether or not Martin ate, or slept, because he was staring intently at the door, wringing his hands.

"What's the matter with you?" Martin asked, Jauffree seemed dazed,

"What? Nothing." He shook his head, "Just waiting for a response to a letter I sent last night." He said, on cue, the door opened, and a rather frazzled looking courier with a thick leather cloak hurried in, shivering. "Good morning."

"Good morning, sir." The little Breton man's teeth chattered, "I have a letter for Jauffree."

"That would be me… come, sit by the fire and warm yourself up while I read." Jauffree motioned the courier in with a sweep of his arm, who quickly hurried past Martin and plopped down tiredly in a chair next to the fire. "That was fast… I expected the response later in the day, maybe even days from now…"

"What's that?"

"Nothing…" Jauffree said, sounding dismissive. Martin immediately could tell that he was lying, and when Jauffree looked over at him, he saw Martin still staring at him. Martin spotted the name on the envelope, the last of it, ' – irrje.'

"Who's that from?"

"No one." Jauffree hid the envelope behind his back, getting a raised eyebrow of suspicion from Martin. "It's… uh… well –"

"I'm very close to using the 'Emperor' excuse to wrestle it from you." Said Martin, Jauffree made a very sour face as he handed it to Martin, pouting. Martin felt his fingers tingle, "Ya' Tirrje?" he asked, "… You know him?"

"He's a friend of Quinn's." Jauffree lied, he got another look of skepticism from Martin.

"She told you about her father." Said Martin, "How else would you know about how to contact him?" he ripped open the letter and unfolded it, and began to read.

"_To the esteemed Grandmaster,_

_I must admit I am surprised to hear from you, and a little bit annoyed. I must explain myself before I come off as rude, and I mean no disrespect to you, to your order, or to the 'Emperor' whom you are guarding._

_I am surprised to hear from an esteemed warrior such as yourself, especially when your concerns are focused mainly on the death of Emperor Uriel Septim VII. Your request to meet with you in Cloud Ruler Temple is not out of the question, but it's purpose, which you made apparent in your message to me, is something I question._

_Ne Quin-al is my child, a grown woman, who makes her own path and interacts with people of her choosing. It has been nearly fifteen years since I have seen her, only being able to send her an occasional letter and odd amounts of money. I would not blame her for being a little bitter about this, seeing as how I promised her I would bring her home, and instead had to leave her in an alien country on her own, to be brutalized. While I welcome the chance letter an official like you will send, one that would excuse me from my duties and bring me to the Empire to see my precious cub, I question your motives. This 'heir', must make his own choices, just like she needs to make hers, and I will be sure that my presence will not alter that. Yours should not alter it either, nor anyone else's._

_I was in Leyawiin when I received your message, and I will send this one on it's way in a short time, only to follow it on its course to Bruma. The messenger's steed is fast, but my feet are steady and strong, you will see me soon, as will my child and this 'Martin'._

_Ya'Tirrje_"

Jauffree had noticed Martin's face had grown more and more pale, his cheeks flushing and his hands wrinkling the paper.

"You invited him _here_." He asked, "You didn't even consult Quinn, did you?"

"No, but –"

"And what do you mean by 'choices'? What did you say to Quinn? What did you tell her father?"

"Nothing, except the Septim line is in danger of disappearing, you're about to become Emperor, you're in love with his daughter, and that she should be the next Empress." Martin's face grew more flushed, and he blinked a few times, "I think I mentioned how she trusted you and had great faith in you –"

"Are you telling me, that during a crisis like this that could cost thousands of people their lives, you're concerned about me making an heir?" he asked, "We've got other things to think about other than who I end up in bed with, Jauffree!"

"Quinn said the same thing but –" Jauffree stopped short as Martin dropped the letter entirely, his eyes widening even farther,

"You… you talked to her about this? You mentioned this to her?"

"Yes."

"We don't even know if we're going to live through this!" Martin scolded, "And you're going behind everyone's backs just to get Quinn to be with me?" The idea suddenly seemed ideal to Martin, but he didn't show it on his face. "And you dragged her _father_ into this?!"

"Calm down."

"No, I won't, because you're basically asking Ya' Tirrje if his daughter would sleep with me!" Martin shook his head and sat down at a table in the Great Hall,

"There's more to it than that. He's got too many good military contacts to ignore, we could use him help in this matter." Jauffree said, "And you cannot ignore the fact that you are the last Septim. _You_. And it's up to you to remedy that." Martin tangled his fingers in his hair, "I didn't have time to wait for Quinn's approval, I chose a provocative subject to get her father to respond. And now I have the opportunity to help both you and Quinn save this Empire. Quinn's only one woman, she can't fight Oblivion on her own!"

"Her father is a _drug dealer_. He only pays for the security in the territory he lives in, he doesn't have an army."

"But he has loyal followers who can help us." Said Jauffree, Martin rolled his eyes,

"What else did you put in the letter?"

"Nothing." Jauffree said sternly, Martin didn't believe him, and Jauffree seemed to not want to give it up. Martin was fairly sure he didn't want to know, anyway. "What else was I supposed to do?!"

"You could have left him alone! What's the point of dragging him all the way from Leyawiin to Bruma? And apparently he's _walking_. How good of a mood is he going to be in when he gets here?"

"Oh… I hadn't really thought about that."

"You can be a _twit_ sometimes, can't you?" Martin snorted, both men started as great booming laughter echoed in Cloud Ruler Temple, Martin was the first the turn around and spot who was doing it. He immediately stood in recognition,

"_Twit!_" the Kajiit roared, Martin immediately recognized the white fur and green eyes, his tall and wide stature, Ya' Tirrje stood beside the fireplace, guffawing and clapping the still shivering messenger on the back. "That is good, no? Ha!"

"When did you arrive?" Jauffree asked, Ya' Tirrje, still chuckling, started to plod over.

"Around the time where the young one was talking about 'We may not even live through this.' By the way, it wasn't the word 'twit' itself, it was how you said it…" he smiled a toothy and sharp grin, Martin scratched his head, "So this is the new heir?"

"Martin." Said Jauffree, "He's the one I told you about."

"I know. He seemed very protective of my daughter's pride." He said, "He seems to know much of nobility." Ya' Tirrje was an older Kajiit, you would think a great tiger was staring you in the face, his white fur streaked with black stripes, his mane a great cascading amount of dreadlocks with jewelry and other shimmering trinkets weaved in. His ears were pierced, as was his nose, rings adorned every finger, thick leather bracers were on both wrists, and his paw-like feet were wrapped in leather bracers as well. On his body were silken robes, covered only by a thick cloak, and he leaned on a cane, one encrusted with silver and rubies. "Now…" he pointed to Jauffree, "I know your true meaning in my coming here, yes?"

"Yes." Jauffree admitted, looking a little guilty, "I also wanted to be sure that _you _were in a secure location as well, Master Ya' Tirrje."

"Oh? And my thick walls were not enough?"

"They may have figured out that you're Quinn's father, they most likely would have killed you to get to her." Said Jauffree, Ya' Tirrje glanced back at Martin, who he towered over for about a foot,

"You don't know much about me, do you?" he asked, Martin shook his head, "My green eyes, my white fur, they're a sign of an ancient curse in my homeland. Did you know that?"

"I've seen Kajiit with white fur before."

"Yes, because you were in Cyrodiil, they most likely ran from home. Most commit suicide, because they themselves aren't cursed, but the people around them will be." He said, "I stayed, and I fought for my right to live, Grandmaster." He smiled gently,

"So you're an ill omen." Said Martin,

"Yes. I did not become who I am today by sitting and crying in a corner. I don't think a bunch of ignorant assassins could take me by surprise. Besides," he sat down at a table, "Why do you think I was in Cyrodiil? On Vacation?"

"I had thought that was odd." Said Jauffree,

"I was tracking." Said Ya' Tirrje. "On the border of Black Marsh."

"Why?"

"It seems my daughter has a home there, and I picked up her scent. I was resting in Leyawiin when I received your letter." He poked Martin with his walking stick, "He has a funny smell to him, no?" Martin looked to Jauffree, then back to the Kajiit next to him. "I don't mean a bad smell, I mean your smell, your scent. It rather reminds me of a tome in my library." He sniffed loudly, "Hmm…" he rubbed the white tuft of fur protruding from his chin, which was braided and had more silver trinkets in it. "Anyway… I was looking for Ne Quin-al."

"Why is that?"

"Because I finally had time to myself, because I missed her." Said Ya' Tirrje, he looked at Martin again, "And you're _nervous _too, isn't that precious?" Martin could see many similarities between Quinn and Ya' Tirrje, he was very friendly, for one, for another he had the same large green eyes that she had, and he also seemed to have that quirky sense of humor and fun that she did. He was certainly less shy than her, though, "Where is Ne Quin-al?"

"She's away in the Imperial city." Said Martin, "We're hoping to hear from her soon."

"_You're_ hoping to hear from her soon." Said Ya' Tirrje, pointing at Martin, "She must be beautiful, eh?" Martin swallowed hard and nodded, "Ha! I knew it, I could tell when she was cub that she would be pretty by human standards. I thought she'd have better taste, though." He stood up, his back cracking, "Now, state in full what your intentions were."

"We need help." Said Jauffree, "Apart from your own security, we –"

"I was talking," said Ya' Tirrje, "To my Emperor." He looked at Martin,

"Well…" Martin shrugged, standing, "We _do_ need help. Anything you could do to assist us would be greatly appreciated."

"And by 'assistance' you mean extra men for defense, and a security force that will draw no attention to Cloud Ruler Temple?"

"If you feel you can spare them."

"Ah! He has a fresh take on the politeness that so many negotiators lack!" said Ya' Tirrje, "Lucky for you, I already sent words for my best fighters so assemble here."

"Thank you." Martin sighed, sitting down, "I know you came a long way, and I appreciate your help."

"It was a pleasure to get my foot in the door." Said Ya' Tirrje

"Can we interest you in food or drink?" asked Jauffree,

"Perhaps a bottle of wine would warm me up. Honestly, I don't know how humans survive up here without fur." Jauffree moved to walk away, but hesitated as Ya' Tirrje motioned for Martin to sit down next to him. The Gold Cat looked at Jauffree. "Off you go, shoo." He waved him away, turning back to Martin, "Now… please, tell me something about yourself."

"There's nothing to tell really." Said Martin, "I would think I've led a normal life –"

"How normal can life be when you are Uriel Septim's bastard heir?" asked Ya' Tirrje. Martin shrugged,

"I didn't know until a week ago." Said Martin,

"So what were you doing before this?"

"I was a priest."

"Are you still standing there?" Ya' Tirrje turned around to Jauffree, who was still hovering around them. "Please, I'm not going to _eat_ him. Shoo, shoo!" he waved him away, jabbing him with his cane until Jauffree retreated with a sour look on his face. "Anyway… feel free to speak openly, Martin."

"About what?"

"My daughter." He said, "There's no watchful monk eye on you now…" Ya' Tirrje turned around, then snorted, "I can see you behind that beam! Get!" he snarled, pointing at Jauffree, "Is it true that you have feelings for her?"

"Well… yes." Martin admitted.

"Speak more, I want to know of you _and_ her."

"Uh… I first met her in Kvatch," said Martin, "It was the first city that was attacked by daedra, an Oblivion gate had opened. But Quinn went to Oblivion, closed the gate, and rescued me."

"So she is a fighter?"

"From what she's told me, she is head of both the Fighter's Guild, and the Mage's Guild. She's also a high ranking member of the Dark Brotherhood."

"She could always fight." Said Ya' Tirrje. "But she never did it out of hatred or spite, and still people were scared and ignorant." The Kajiit sat beside Martin,

"I know she can defend herself but there were so many times I wanted to help her." Said Martin, "Why does she have to be the only one who suffers?" Ya' Tirrje sighed, patting Martin's shoulder,

"She's always been like that. On one hand, she thinks that it is normal, on the other, she wants to be the only one who suffers in the world, so she takes it in stride." He smiled ruefully, "That's why she left, she didn't want me to suffer indignities because she looked different." Martin stayed quiet, looking to the floor, "I can see pain in your face." Ya' Tirrje said slowly, "This whole situation disturbs you more than you will admit."

"It does… How can _I_ be the heir?" he asked, "I wasn't a priest my whole life, I've done _bad_ things –"

"Blood is blood." Said Ya' Tirrje, "You cannot help but be who you are. You cannot be Uriel Septim, but you can be _Martin Septim_. Use what you know, and fix your mistakes." Martin suddenly perked up,

"That's it." He bit his thumb, "That's what he meant…"

"What's it? What did I say?"

"If I can figure out why the Oblivion gates are open, maybe I can find a way of restoring the barrier between our world and Oblivion!" Martin stood, "I'm sorry to break this conversation short, but I have work to do."

"I'm not going anywhere." Ya' Tirrje reclined in his chair as Jauffree returned, Martin rushed away past him, nearly knocking him over. "Watch out for Martin, he's had an epiphany."

"What did you say to him?"

"I told him to be himself." Said Ya' Tirrje,

"That's it?"

"You'd be surprised how many people need to be told that, actually."


	16. The Black Soul Gem

"So what's he like?" asked Baurus, Quinn hefted the heavy book into her satchel, barley fitting it in.

"Who?"

"Martin."

"Oh, he's very sweet." Quinn said, "He looks so much like his Highness."

"I can't believe no one ever told me about him." Said Baurus. The sewers were smelly, probably because of all the rain and humidity, it also didn't help that they were dotted with dead rats and goblins. The recent activity in the sewers had led them where they needed to go, the Mythic Dawn contact had given Baurus a good fight, but only left him with a few deeps cuts and bruises. The only thing Quinn dreaded now, was dragging the books back up to Tar- Meena, then all the way back to Cloud Ruler Temple. She doubted that Jauffree would want them there, but Martin would most likely read them.

"He didn't know, he was so _scared_, I felt so terrible waltzing in and turning his life upside down."

"I wish Uriel was alive, he would have wanted to see Martin."

"I know…"

"Maybe he's still here, you know?" Baurus suggested, "He may be watching over Martin right now."

"I hope so…"

"You like him, don't you?"

"Of course _you _can tell, fetcher." Quinn snapped playfully, "Jauffree seems to think Martin'll pick me as his Empress." The comment made Baurus blink wildly, and clear his throat.

"That's funny, Uriel said pretty much the same thing."

"What do you mean?" Quinn pulled herself up the ladder to get into the Talos Plaza District.

"He said something like, 'She will carry the line'."

"He was oddly accurate." Said Quinn, pulling herself up, "Yecch, I smell like rat poo."

"Me to, don't feel too bad." Baurus huffed, Quinn quickly helped pull him up so he didn't open up his wounds any farther.

"What'll you do now?"

"I'm going to go back to Cloud Ruler Temple." Said Baurus, "I have to look after Martin."

"You need to see to those wounds first." Said Quinn, "I don't know a healing spell powerful enough. Come with me to the Arcane University, Raminus should be able to help you." As they walked through the streets, Quinn noticed the clouds above her hung heavy and dark, most likely more rain was coming, and she hugged herself to keep herself warm. "Damn, these books are heavy." She cursed, "Evil bastard must have known I was too little to carry these."

"Altogether they're worth a fortune." Said Baurus, Quinn shrugged. She practically leapt out of her skin, and screamed shrilly as a pair of hands landed on her shoulders from behind, a loud yell erupting in her ear. She leapt away from the hands and drew her dagger,

"Ha! Gotcha!"

"Damn you Alastor!" she slapped him upside the head, getting a groan of annoyance from him, "Where's Arboghast?"

"Well 'hello' to you too, cranky."

"And Naga and Daiji?"

"Just say 'hi', it won't kill you." He snorted, Baurus looked confused, "Oh, hey, in case you're confused, I'm her long lost butt-buddy." This got Alastor a sound kick in the chest, making him lose his breath and wheeze, "_She missed me!_ I knew it!"

"Baurus, this the Alastor." Said Quinn, rolling her eyes, "Now tell me where your brother is."

"Eww, Quinn, you smell like rat poo." He stuck his tongue out at her, she slammed her foot down on his toes, "Ow! Fuck! Alright!" he recoiled, rubbing his toes on his shin, "He's with the two lovely Daedra in Luther Broad's Boarding House."

"Oh?"

"He was looking for you, heard that a small pretty Breton went in there a while ago. I was heading in when I saw you."

"Convenient." Said Quinn, "Alastor, Arboghast, and the two Daedra Naga and Daiji helped me get Martin to Cloud Ruler Temple, Baurus. Alastor here swapped robes with Martin and acted as a decoy."

"I just ran around in circles, basically." Said Alastor, "Killed me a whole bunch of them 'assassin' types."

"You are a _twit_." Said Quinn, "I'm taking Baurus to the Arcane University, I want Arboghast to meet us there, or I will cook and eat your balls." Alastor actually looked threatened by that. "Are we clear?"

"We're the same rank, you can't order me aroun-"

"_Now_."

"Right. Gotcha." Alastor hurried away, when he was gone Baurus burst into chuckles,

"Ugh… he's a pest… let's go."

Tar- Meena seemed perplexed by something, as she thumbed through the Commentaries, Raminus did a quick healing, and when Baurus felt better he departed. Quinn quickly changed out of her leather armor and into something less smelly, which was a comfortable pair of black and burgundy shoes, and a casual black dress. She sent an acolyte to wash her armor, and plopped down in front of Tar-Meena.

"So? What do you think?"

"I think he's insane." Said Tar- Meena, Quinn shrugged, and nodded, "He's speaking as if the Aedra owed him _rent_."

"Maybe they do." Said Quinn,

"Get smote on your own turf, don't get me involved." Said the Argonian, "Hmm… I'm going to need more time to read this."

"It's alright, I'm waiting for a few things anyway." Said Quinn, yawning.

"Go and get some sleep, girl, you look like death." Tar- Meena, Quinn took her advice, going up to the Arch Mage's quarters and kicking off her shoes, one of them flew too far and knocked Hrormir's Ice Staff to the ground. She picked it up carefully, placing it back at the end of the bed, then looked to her bedside table. The black soul gem shined dully, but it still seemed to have an unearthly glow to it as Quinn approached,

"I know that you probably can't hear me." Said Quinn, to the soul gem, "But not trying never got me anywhere." It was stuffed full to the brim, a reminder of sacrifices to her, and the blood on her hands. Quinn felt like she cursed everyone who dared to care for her, making them suffer or simply pass away, but at least Traven had died of his own choice, to help her. Vicente loved her like a daughter, and she betrayed him. Lucien was her teacher, and now he hated her. Her own father, Ya' Tirrje, could not be with her, or the people of Senchal would lose faith in him. Uriel trusted her, and in the end… died for it. The portal leading downstairs suddenly glowed, and Arboghast appeared, shuddering slightly.

"I hate those things…"

"Hello Arboghast." She picked up the Black Soul Gem, sighing, Arboghast noticed the glum look on her face.

"Brooding again, Kitty?" he asked, she nodded, he sat next to her on the bed. "How's Martin?"

"Safe." Said Quinn, "And you?"

"Fine, Alastor was a pain, like usual, the Aureal hates me."

"And Naga?"

"Hmm… I guess they don't call them 'Dark Seducers' for nothing…"

"What's that supposed to mean?" asked Quinn, Arboghast let out a contented sigh and leaned back on the bed, "Did you –"

"I've never slept with a daedra before, and I've gotta say that it's an acquired taste."

"Oh no…"

"Once you get used to all the biting it's actually nice." Said Arbo.

"Stop talking about it." Quinn shook her head, "You're not serious are you?"

"Why would I lie about it?" Arboghast snorted, "Anyway, I ran into Lucien last night, he was very perturbed about something. But wouldn't tell me what." Quinn stayed silent, "You know what it is."

"I do."

"Will you tell me?"

"Eventually."

"Alright… as long as it doesn't put you in danger." Said Arbo, "How was the trip up?"

"Lucien didn't tell you?" asked Quinn, "He sent me to Purify the Sanctuary, and he kept Vicente alive, and when Vicente caught up to us he kidnapped Martin and fed on him."

"Lucien?" Arbo sat up, "He did that? What happened to Vicente?"

"He killed him."

"That's not good, is Martin alright?" Arboghast stood from the bed.

"He's not turned, if that's what you mean." Quinn laid on the bed and pulled the blankets up until her head was covered,

"I'm reporting this to the Black Hand." Said Arbo, "Something like this can't go unpunished."

"He'll get away with it…" said Quinn, "I'm sorry Arboghast, but I really am tired."

"It's alright. I'll see you later, I'm going to send word to the Black Hand about Lucien." Arboghast hurried back over to the portal and disappeared, leaving Quinn alone in the room. She shut her eyes, and slowly began to fall into sleep, the Black Soul gem rolling from her grasp and falling to the floor.

* * *

_"Hold up." Glenroy edged forwards around the corner, the empty room before them continued it dusty and dull silence. "I don't like this, let me take a look."_

_"Sire, stand between Baurus and me." Quinn gently showed him between the two of them, Glenroy edged forwards farther, and upon his inspection he waved them forwards,_

_"Looks clear. Come on, we're almost through to the sewers."_

_"Then I think we're home free. There's a safehouse where the Emperor can assume a disguise and we can make our way safely to Cloud Ruler Temple." Said Baurus._

_"Don't assume anything." Quinn muttered, "Stay alert." They ran to the next passage, only to find it blocked by a closed gate, Glenroy yanking and pulling at it with a large amount of fury. He kept at it for a good two minutes, Quinn even tried to melt it with a flare spell, but it only smoked and warped, not clearing their path._

_"Damn it!" he kicked it, "The gate must be barred from the other side!"_

_"A trap." Uriel said quietly, Quinn bit her lip at his look of fatigue and sadness, she approached him, "Quinn… it's coming."_

_"What is?" she asked, Baurus looked around the room as Uriel tried to gain the courage to answer Quinn._

_"Wait! What about that side passage back there?" he pointed to a hallway leading off, "It may connect to the sewers."_

_"It's worth a try." Glenroy nodded, Quinn immediately took the Emperor's arm and showed him to it, Baurus running ahead._

_"It's clear!" he called, Quinn hurried the Emperor in, "But it's a dead end!" Glenroy immediately turned in the doorway at hearing the gate behind them suddenly collapse and snap, falling off the hinges, "What's your call sir?"_

_"They're behind us!" Glenroy pulled his katana from its sheath, "Wait here sire!" he darted out of the room, Baurus pointed at Quinn, his finger directly in her face,_

_"You stay here with the Emperor, and guard him with your life!" he ordered, Quinn nodded, she felt Uriel's hand land on her shoulder. Quinn swallowed hard and nodded again, "Sire, stay with Ne Quin-al, don't try to help Glenroy and me, if we fall…"_

_"You won't." Quinn said, "Focus on staying alive, let me worry about the Emperor. Now go." Baurus gave a fleeting look behind at her, and ran after Glenroy. It sounded like brutal battle, Quinn managed to keep the assassins out of the room, shooting fireballs out into the fray to assist Baurus and Glenroy. Uriel's hand never left her shoulder, and finally he pulled her around to face him. On his face was a grave look, his eyes seemed to shine with tears of fear and sadness._

_"It's here." He said, Quinn could hear the shaking regret in his voice, "It's my time."_

_"Don't say that!" Quinn said, "Baurus and Glenroy are holding them off! We can beat them back!"_

_"Please," he reached behind his head, unclasping the chain connected to the glowing red gem in the Amulet of Kings, he pulled it away from him, "Take this." He pulled her hands up, pressing the warm object into her palms, "To find my son, you must find Jauffree, he knows where to find him."_

_"Don't give up like this!" Quinn said, "You will survive –"_

_"No, Quinn." He said, "I've seen it… I've seen this. I've seen your will to protect me, and I've seen your need to help me in this crisis, but my time ends here. They are a relentless flood, and they will not stop in their pursuit of you, of Jauffree, of Baurus, until I am slain."_

_"How could they know who we are?"_

_"You can hide __nothing__ from a daedra lord." He said solemnly,_

_"But…" she said, "You… You can't __die__." Quinn said, her face blank with shock, tears welling in her eyes, "You can't leave me too." Uriel's hands lifted to her face, he held her face in his hands, her cheeks in his palms and his thumbs wiping her bewildered and sad tears from her face._

_"I don't leave you by my choice. I wish I could stay and help you fight Lord Dagon and his mortal servants. But I have no choice, and no matter how hard we both fight, for me, it is over."_

_"But why me? Why not Baurus? Martin would believe a Blade, he won't believe me! I don't know what to do!" She heard Glenroy cry out in agony, a sound that a man would make only if he were in extreme pain. She held him tightly, Uriel smiled knowingly, but it ended as Baurus was thrown back into the room. Quinn saw a panel slide up in the wall behind Uriel, she pulled away from the Emperor as Baurus got to his feet and dashed back out towards the main room, oblivious to the threat coming from the wall. She kicked the assassin back, snarling loudly, still holding the Amulet in her fist, then ran back to Uriel, "I won't let you die." She said in a low voice, Uriel drew his shortsword, but slowly, "Don't you __dare__ let yourself die."_

_"I won't." he said, Quinn fought hard against the next two assassins that came from hole in the wall, showing a bloody display of skill and anger, and before she could get her breath back four more assassins poured through the hole in the wall. One of them got a grip on her throat, slamming her back into the wall and upwards so her feet kicked in the air, the Amulet skidding away out of her hand and into a dark corner. Uriel slammed his blade into one of the remaining assassins, but the other got a sound slice into the Emperor's lower abdomen before Uriel ended him. Quinn struggled wildly against the remaining killer, his face was directly in hers, though the daedric armor prevented her from seeing his face._

_"Stranger," it breathed, "You chose a bad day to take up the Septim's cause." Uriel heard a very animal like snarl come from her throat, but the assassin slapped her weapon from her hand, holding her arms down. "When I'm through with the old man I'm going to do all sorts of interesting things to –" he stopped short as Uriel's arm came around his head, the shortsword digging into his throat, and blood pouring out onto the floor. Quinn fell to the floor, coughing, Uriel held a hand over his stomach,_

_"Your Highness!" she hurried to him as he fell back against the wall as he bled onto the floor, his eyes locked on the hole in the wall, a dark figure looming out of it. Uriel moved to warn her as it moved to strike her, but she silenced him, "I can heal –"_

_"Behind you!" With a powerful shove, Quinn found herself on the ground, her head striking the floor, as she came to her senses she saw the shadowy figure strike out towards the Emperor, the assassin's mace finding the side of Uriel's head and knocking him to the floor. Uriel didn't move, his chest only took quick and shallow breaths as the figure stood above him, and stomped relentlessly on his stomach._

_"__Uriel!__" she moved to her feet, her head throbbing and her vision blurred, but still she rushed forwards weaponless. Quinn slammed her left shoulder into the assassin, crushing him against the wall and making him drop his cruelly curved mace, she retrieved it, and slammed it downwards on his head, making him slump sideways. Quinn flung the mace away, collapsing down on the floor next to Uriel. His eyes darted all around the room, his mouth seeping blood,_

_"I… I can't… see…" Quinn winced and felt a sob work out of her throat at the large gashes on his face and the side of his head, "…Quinn?"_

_"I'm here." she said weakly, his right hand ventured upwards, finding her left hand, she reached into the corner behind Uriel's head, the amulet had slipped into a crack in the wall, "I have the amulet." She held it to her chest, and let out an unrestrained sob as Uriel coughed up more blood._

_"I'm finished…"_

_"No…" she shook her head, crushing his hand in her grip, "No, no, no!" She heard Baurus's heavy and quick footfalls rushing towards them, the sounds of the fray had died, "You can't __die__, please don't die…" she leaned over him, lifting his head onto her lap, Uriel felt a few of her tears strike his face. She heard Baurus's cry of defeat as he entered the room,_

_"Quinn… you must find him…" Uriel said, Baurus came close, Quinn saw Uriel's eyes closing, "Find…Martin…"_

_"I will." She said slowly, Uriel's eyes shut tightly, his hand began to fall away from hers as his strength left him._

_"I'll…be with you…" he whispered, his hands fell away, Quinn felt his breath leave him, as Baurus fell to his knees beside them, Uriel's head fell to the side, the pool of blood rippling beneath their knees. Baurus felt at Uriel's neck,_

_"No…" he let his hand fall away, "Talos save us…"_

_"He's __dead__." Quinn said, "I'm…I'm sorry. I f-failed you."_

_"We both did." He said, she barely heard it he said it so quietly, "Captain Renault, Glenroy, and… the Emperor…they're gone." he suddenly looked concerned, "The Amulet! It's not around his neck, where –"_

_"Here." She held it out to him, Baurus looked up at her tired face, the Emperor's head still in her lap, his white hair stained with red. "He… he gave it to me to take to Jauffree."_

_"He said that? Why?"_

_"There's another heir."_

_"Another heir?" Baurus swallowed hard, "We have to find him, we have to save him! It's nothing I've ever heard about, but the Emperor was right to send you to Jauffree, he's the one who would know."_

_"Where do I find him?"_

_"Weynon Priory just outside of Chorrol, he'll know what to do." Baurus gently lifted the Emperor away from Quinn, "You have to go, and you have to __now__. There is no time to waste, take my key to the sewers, and get the hell out of here. I'll guard the Emperor's body until help arrives." Quinn slowly stood, her body coated in blood and the Amulet glowing warmly in her grip. Baurus gently laid the Emperor down, and handed the key to Quinn, "Don't let yourself get distracted, go straight to Grandmaster Jauffree!" Quinn hesitated, "Go! He'd want you to hurry!" Quinn nodded, and turned, rushing out the hole in the wall, "Don't look back!"_


	17. The Usurper

Mankar Camoran was a high elf, Quinn learned, as she followed Harrow into the cavern in which the Mythic dawn held their sermons. She melded into the crowd easily, though her armor and weapons were with Harrow now, she still had her little ebony dagger hidden in her boot, and she stared up at Mankar Camoran as he looked over the crowd.

"Praise be." The call went up around her like a perverse psalm, echoing in her mind dully.

"The Dragon Throne lies empty." Mankar began, his eyes lazily traveled over the people gathered, Quinn couldn't help but keep her hard and hateful gaze upon him. It wasn't like her to get her emotions involved in an assignment like this, and it was almost as if the people around her were edging closer to her, almost attracted to her rage. "And we have the Amulet of Kings."

_It was __you__._

Quinn's mind emptied of thought, remembering the Emperor's bloody cranium and empty stare, the mask of death fixed on her face. Quinn fought the urge to rip her blade from its sheath, but allowed herself to glare with hatred at the Altmer. His words were deep, seductive, and powerful, but her mind blurred and distorted them so she did not hear what he said.

_You killed my friend. You threw my friend's life upside down. You killed hundreds of innocent people._ Quinn glared up at the statue of Mehrunes Dagon, and saw a quivering form beneath it, a shaking and wheezing Argonian. She saw Mankar's empty eyes on her face, smirking directly at her, _And you know why I am here, and what I want to do to you._ Quinn bared her teeth, before she could stop herself she was flying forwards, her hand snatching the dagger from it's hiding place. _Very well_.

"I go now to His paradise, I take the Amulet with me, so that the new Septim imposter may not obtain it and gain the upper hand. When I return, the cleansing will begin." He said, he caught sight of Quinn again as she lunged upwards, it was a slow and steady snarl as she drew close, her lips pulled back, her eyes wide, the dagger in her hand drawn back as she prepared to swipe it forwards and slice his throat.

"_Sithis damn you!_" she shrieked,

Mankar threw his arms up in front of him, and Quinn felt the heat and darkness consume her as he summoned up a portal before him.

"My dear, you come too late." He said, Quinn fell to the ground, suffocated by the smoke and fire and sulfur, but she still was on her feet. "I have acquired what I needed, when I return I will bring Lord Dagon with me." Quinn said nothing, and he pulled an object out of his pocket, dangling it inches away from her nose. "Is this what you want?" the Amulet of Kings glowed as she snatched out at it, but he yanked it away and backed into the portal, snapping the amulet around his neck. "If you want to save your Empire so badly, come and get me." Quinn let out a roar of frustration and dove after him, her head struck the stone altar behind him as the portal disappeared.

"Unbeliever!" another High Elf roared, a woman with a staff in her hands, "You dare come here and try to harm my father?! You will be the first to be cleansed!"

"Oh, I'd like to see that!" Quinn said in a low voice, "Altmer _whore_!" Quinn slammed her dagger into the Altmer's foot, and kicked high into her face, before slicing up her abdomen and kicking her over the alter into the crowd below. "You Lord is useless and petty!" she called, "I will tear his sole from his body and send him back to the dark waters of Oblivion _from whence he came!_"

"You are _weak!_" A Breton woman screamed, "Just like the gods you pray to!" Quinn leapt over the alter, slamming her blade into the woman's face, with as much strength as she could muster, she lifted her up above her head, a rage she hadn't felt for a long time coursing through her body,

"_I __am__ the god that you should pray to!_" she threw the woman into the crowd, "I rejoice in the blood of the Mythic Dawn. I invite you to try and slay me, and I will revenge myself upon the death my Emperor, my _friend!_" she shrieked, "If your Lord does come, it will not just my blood he seeks, _it will be yours as well!_" Quinn heard no response from the angry crowd, "I will not stop until every one of you _lies dead!_"

* * *

When Quinn returned, Martin quickly took to the four books which she had brought with her. His hatred for the writer grew more and more intense with every page, but still, the name remained familiar.

Mankar Camoran. Why did it hold so much weight in his mind? He spent a time thumbing back and forth through the pages, but still, the man's obviously insane beliefs gave no insight to his personality or background. He asked Jauffree, who reminded him of the Camoran Usurper. He asked Quinn, who told him that she had seen him and heard him speak, a High Elf with a deep seductive voice and a beautiful yet disrupted mind. She told him that he had a son and a daughter, and that she had killed them both, and he didn't react at all.

"How can he not react?" asked Martin, biting his thumb, looking at Quinn tiredly, who sat across the table at him, "What makes him think he has the power to bring Mehrunes Dagon into this world?"

"Because he used that power to go to his 'Paradise'." Said Quinn, she reluctantly reached into her satchel, "By using this." The book was large, with white leather binding it, and a deadric rune burned into it. Martin stood immediately, knocking the chair backwards in his attempt to get away from the book,

"_By the Nine!_" he snatched the book away from her, "Such a thing is dangerous even to handle!" he tucked it under his arm, "What in Oblivion is wrong with you?!"

"I'm sorry Martin I didn't know!" Quinn stood too, Martin holding the book away from her as if it would bite her.

"I didn't mean to shout, you just scared me…" he looked at it menacingly, before waving a glowing hand over it, "I know how to defend myself against Daedric magic, _do not_ touch it again, alright?"

"Fine. You'll have to inform me of that background in daedric magic sometime." She said, sitting again as Martin put the book down again.

"I'm just afraid that it'll influence me anyway…" he said slowly, Quinn pulled something from her satchel, a great black soul gem, and she put it on the table next to him. He stared at it a moment, then looked up at her, "What's this?"

"That is Hannible Traven." Said Quinn, Martin gaped,

"The Arch Mage –"

"He passed his title to me." She said, Martin gaped wider, "I know… but he put himself into that gem so he could protect me against Mannimarco's influence. Maybe he can help you now."

"I don't think he'd help me." Said Martin, and Quinn reached into her satchel yet again, and produced something else, it blinded him with the light it was emitting. "The Hellawes? I thought you left that behind?"

"No… Here." She handed it to him, and when he took it he found that it had been squeezed down to a smaller size, and put into a small amulet. "I made it smaller, and enchanted it."

"But Sheogorath gave this to you."

"You need it more than I do." She said, "Put it on." Martin slid it over his head, and let the jewel touch him, he felt a warmth spread through his body. "It's a spell of fortune and health. If you're hurt, you will heal." She said, Martin touched it gently, "Keep it with you."

"I will."

"Now that I've given you that, you must be wondering why I didn't save it for myself, seeing as how I'm the one running errands for you." She said, "It's because I care more about you, than I do for myself, Martin."

"Don't say that –"

"I know it saddens you, but it's true."

"What about your father?"

"What of him?"

"He's _here_." Said Martin, Quinn blanched, "He came to Cyrodiil looking for you, Jauffree hasn't told you?" Martin stood,

"No, no, sit." She said, grabbing his hand, "I've only now got the courage to tell you to your face, please sit." Martin did sit, her hands still clasping his, "Please, Jauffree knows, Lucien knows, even Vicente knew. I've been wanting to tell you ever since the Ayleid ruin."

"What's the matter?"

"I'm in love with you." She said quickly. Martin's eyes widened, "And I know that you feel the same about me. I don't think we should hide it from each other."

"I never meant to."

"Neither did I, but I didn't want to distract you." She said, Martin let out a nervous chuckle, "I love you, and I want to protect you." Martin nodded, "You can't be the hero in this, you can't follow me wherever I go to help me, but you can help from your place here."

"How?"

"How do I get to Mankar Camoran?"

"I don't know… We'd have to replicate the portal to his paradise." Said Martin, "But I don't know how. I'd need time to translate the Xarxes." He said, but the look in his eyes was not the same. He was faltering, Quinn noticed, his words becoming weak and his eyes tired and glassy,

"Martin?"

"I feel ill." He said, standing, "I need rest…"

"You do that. I'll be in to check on you shortly." She said, he nodded. "What's wrong?"

"I'll speak of it, but not here." He said, looking around at the Blades surrounding them, "Not with them." He whispered, Quinn nodded, and Martin left abruptly, not even alerting Baurus to his departure. When Baurus moved to follow him, Quinn shook her head,

"Leave him, let him be alone." She nodded, then sighed, "He just told me that my father is here."

"Ya' Tirrje?"

"Yes." She took a deep breath and stood, swallowing hard, and walking to the kitchen. She figured that she would find him there, he always had a large appetite, and the constant need to speak and tell stories. She found him sitting at the table, guffawing and chattering with three Blades, one of which was Jauffree, who stood at seeing Quinn in the doorway. Ya' Tirrje simply stared on with vague disbelief in his eyes,

"Ah! Ne Quin-al! I didn't know that you had returned!" he said, "Cyrus, Steffan, please excuse yourselves to the Great Hall." The two other Blades stood and nodded to Quinn politely as they exited through the door behind her, "I'll leave you two to yourselves, please let me know if there is anything you need."

"Thank you, Grandmaster." Quinn's eyes didn't leave Ya' Tirrje's face, even after Jauffree left. Ya' Tirrje stood, Quinn saw his tail flicking back and forth impatiently, but he said nothing. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm not allowed to see you?" he asked, she shook her head,

"Are you here because you tracked me? Or are you here for security reasons?"

"Both. It was merely coincidence that I was in Cyrodiil." He said, then his eyes softened, "Oh, my child, I've waited to so long to _see you_." Quinn felt her footsteps betray her, they thudded across the wooden floor towards him, and he caught her as she huddled close to him, hiding her face into the white fur of his neck.

"Father…" she mumbled the words into his neck, tears falling silently from her eyes.

"I missed you." He held her tightly, his hand stroking her hair, pushing her hood down, "And now we meet in most dire circumstances."

"I know… but if this all goes wrong at least I saw you again."

"He won't let it go wrong, will he?"

"Martin? He'd rather die than see the Mythic Dawn win." She said, Ya' Tirrje nodded, "I missed you so much…"

"You've grown so beautiful, Martin was right about that…" he said, "But you're cursed with your father's green eyes."

"I'll bear it." She said. They were silent for a long time, Quinn felt the old memories of her childhood creep up behind her, and she pulled away, wiping her eyes with her sleeves,

"You've got a good stance." He looked her up and down, "But I still hear shyness in your voice. Don't tell me you won him over by being sheepish?" he chuckled, Quinn shrugged,

"I don't see why. I think he's insane to care about me."

"But you care about him. Maybe that is why." He said, "Then again, when has love ever been logical?"

"Good point."

"He seemed ill today, tired and stressed, perhaps you should check on him before we catch up?"

"You're right, I told him I would… I'll be back." She motioned, "Stay here, I'll come back to you."

"Go on, don't keep him waiting." Ya' Tirrje sat down, gripping the bottle of wine before him tightly. "I'll find ways to amuse myself." Quinn quickly left him, running to Martin's room. The candle was still lit, she knocked gently at hearing a faint panting noise,

"Martin?" she pushed the door open, finding him on the floor, shirtless. "Oh." He was doing push ups, and as he pushed himself to his feet and sat on the bed, he looked a little embarrassed. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt you."

"It's alright." He said, "I just felt stir crazy." He said, Quinn could smell the sweat and his musk, a scent that did in fact smell like a leather-bound tome. Not old or dusty, but warm and pungent, the scent of fresh leather and ink.

"It's good that you get into shape, you should also think about working on your skills with a blade." It's not that she thought he was fat, because he wasn't, but she could tell that in his youth he had had some definition to his body, and it had faded a little in his time as a mage and as a priest.

"I know." He said, Quinn sat on a bench that was positioned directly beneath the window near the door, sliding the door closed on a snoring Roliand.

"You can speak freely now." She said, he nodded, averting his eyes towards the windows across from him, then falling back on the bed.

"I know more than I would like about Daedric magic." He said, "As a young mage I grew impatient with the strict rules of the Guild, some of my friends and I experimented constantly, until we finally uncovered a way to summon a daedra." He didn't sit up, he didn't move. "We succeeded, and people died. My _friends_ died."

"I'm sorry."

"They died because I had summoned up a Daedra Lord, or at least caught his attention, and when he was done with me I could barely speak, or eat, or walk for almost six months." He put his hands over his face, "He reached out to me, and said my name, and as I held out my hand to him he struck down my friends and reached… _inside_ of me." Martin sat up, touching his own chest, "I felt his hands, they were cold, and they touched at something in me, my very soul I think. And he played with me like a puppet." Martin looked at his hands, "And then he threw me back, I hit my head, and all at once I became the victim." He looked up at Quinn, "It was Hannible Traven who expelled me, everyone thought I was just caught the crossfire, that I was a good little scholar, but he knew better."

"The Daedra was Sheogorath, wasn't it?"

"Yes. I guess now it's appropriate, my ancestor Pelagius was touched by him as well."

"He was _crazy_." Said Quinn, "You're more sane than you should be. Be a little bit crazy, it's good for you." Martin shrugged, seemingly glum now, and Quinn sat next to him on the bed. "I'm sorry to bring it up Martin."

"I had to say it eventually." He said, "I rather it were to you than anyone else." Quinn looked at him thoughtfully, and he stared right back at her, "What?"

"I'd better get back to see my father." She said, standing, Martin stood as well.

"Why the sudden retreat?" he asked incredulously, Quinn blushed, shaking her head,

"I don't really have a head for romance, Martin." She said, Martin frowned, "Not yet anyway… look I've never had to deal with something like… this." She swallowed hard, rubbing her nose with her forefinger.

"I see…" said Martin, "At least not under pressure."

"I have actually, and let me tell you that it did not end well for either of us." She said, Martin shrugged, "I'll come and check up on you later, but I have to see my father now."

"This doesn't have anything to do with you being a half breed, does it?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Who else are you going to talk to?" he asked, Quinn sighed and turned to leave,

"I'll be back later." She said, "You're very good at distracting me, but don't get a big ego now that the secret is out, Septim." Martin mock scowled at her retreating back, flopping backwards onto the bed, his eyes darkening as sleep took him.


	18. The Priest

_"Brother Martin!" Martin turned to Clavicus slowly, away from the altar, "Ah! Maynard tells me that you've been here all day."_

_"I have." Said Martin, Clavicus noticed the rings around his eyes and the sluggishness in which he blinked,_

_"You look like Namira on a bad day. When's the last time you ate?"_

_"Last night, I think."_

_"Are you fasting?"_

_"No… I think I just forgot." Martin stood, "I've felt strong unease lately, I feel safer in here."_

_"Why?" Clavicus took Martin by the shoulder, and he shrugged,_

_"I don't know…I feel…strange." He scratched his head as Clavicus guided him away from the altar._

_"About those dreams you've been having?"_

_"Yes, I think so."_

_"Why won't you tell me what you've been dreaming about?"_

_"I don't want to alarm you." Martin said, Clavicus sighed,_

_"I was in the legion for ten years, you can't alarm me too easily," said the Imperial, "Now get that weight off of your chest, tell me what's been bothering you."_

_"I… I think the Emperor is going to… die." Martin said warily, Clavicus blinked, then made a noise of thought, a faint hum in his throat. "I told you – "_

_"Why do you say that?"_

_"I keep seeing him die." Said Martin, he felt the right side of his head, feeling a slight throbbing sensation, "I feel something slamming into the side of my head, cutting it open, and… I fall."_

_"Wait, __you're__ the Emperor in those dreams?" Clavicus asked, Martin nodded, "Did you see anything else?"_

_"There was a girl." Martin scratched his head again, "I can't tell if she was a Bosmer or a Breton." Clavicus shoved the chapel doors open, "It feels so __real__."_

_"All dreams do, don't they?"_

_"For me, yes." He said, "It was strange…She was crying. She was leaning over me, and __crying__. I even felt her tears on my face."_

_"How do you even know you were the Emperor, Brother Martin?"_

_"I just… __did__." Martin said, "Even if it isn't true, I think there is going to be a great upset in the way things are running. Great change is about to take place, maybe these are signs from Akatosh…" The streets of Kvatch were busy, like usual, children ran about and played in the darkening afternoon air, the markets were crowded and loud, people gossiped loudly to their friends and neighbors. The children always had a strong liking for Martin, he could never understand why, but they always flocked to him. He was always the one who split up fights, who healed wounds from playing or fighting, and often was roped into games with them._

_"Maybe, Akatosh does control time, after all, maybe you __are__ seeing into the future."_

_"No… That's impossible." Martin shook his head, "Only people descended from lines of ancient mystics do that, even the Emperor can see because of his ancestor Tiber Septim."_

_"Maybe… huh…" Clavicus rubbed his chin, "Maybe you have a connection to him."_

_"Me? How?" asked Martin._

_"I don't know, maybe you're seeing through his eyes because he knows of you." Said Clavicus. "Or, you're crazy." Martin frowned, "I don't really think you're crazy."_

_"Why would he know of __me__?"_

_"You know him, once in a while he wanders through Cyrodiil dressed as an old beggar. You've heard the stories."_

_"How he fathered three thousand bastard sons and has laid with every woman from every bloodline. That's not Uriel Septim, the man is as devoted to Akatosh as I am. That's more like Jagar Tharn."_

_"You look well enough like him."_

_"Why does everyone keep __saying that__?"_

_"Maybe Tiber fathered a bastard child, you could be his descendant." Clavicus said, Martin snorted, Clavicus always took the conspiracy route, he always looked for a good story._

_"I doubt it. If I was Talos's child I'd think I'd know." Said Martin, he paused as a small object blocked his path, he looked down at it. "Torva?" the little Kajiit cub looked shaken, her eyes were wide, and her limbs shook. "Are you alright?"_

_"Eh…" she whined, it turned into heavy sobbing as she held her hands out to him, there were two cuts on both of her palms, he kneeled down to look at them._

_"What happened?" Clavicus bent down to check on her too, Martin passed a healing spell over her hands, "Has your brother been beating on you again?" Torva shook her head, Martin sympathized with the girl, the cuts had been deep and had bled quite a bit, she still had tears leaking down her furry face, she shook her head again, Martin saw something crumpled up and bulging in her pocket. "Don't lie, has he been beating you up again?"_

_"…He said I was lying." She said, Martin pointed at the thing in her pocket, all at once she pressed on the bulge, trying to hide it._

_"About that?" he asked, Clavicus wasn't surprised that she nodded. Martin knew, he __always__ knew, he always knew where to find a child if it had run off, he always knew where it hurt and how to talk, and he always knew if you were lying._

_"No, no! You'll think I'm lying too."_

_"Let me see it." He said, Torva hesitated, but pulled the large scrap of paper from her pocket, handing it to Martin. It was all folded up, she was probably going to dispose of it somehow,_

_"That boy is going to get himself into so much trouble." Said Clavicus, "Why does he do that?"_

_"He's rough." Said Martin, "Give it time, he'll be humbled by something or another." He unfolded the paper, reading it slowly, but the hair on the back of his neck stood on end._

_'Assassination!'_

_"…Where did you get this, Torva?" Martin asked slowly, his heart pounding in his chest,_

_"I was on the road, a lady with a black horse dropped it near me. When I told Dro' Shenja he slapped my hands with a broken piece of wood!" she said angrily, Clavicus sensed Martin's fear, heard his voice shake, and Martin gave it to him to read while he tended to Torva's bloody hands. Clavicus dropped the paper,_

_"He's… dead?" Clavicus gaped, "Martin, the dream –"_

_"Am I in trouble?" asked Torva, Martin scooped her off of the ground, and shook his head,_

_"No. I believe you." He said, "Where's your mother?"_

_"The Inn." She said, pointing to Clavicus. She didn't really know how to communicate too well, she was young, and she had only recently come from Elsweyr to join her brother and her mother in Kvatch._

_"But Martin, you have to tell –"_

_"Not a word." Martin hissed, Clavicus sighed with aggravation, picking up the paper and following him to the inn. It was quiet and warm in the inn, Clavicus's wife was behind the bar, cleaning a bar glass, her stomach swollen with pregnancy. She looked up at them,_

_"Ah! When Clavicus told me you've been hiding in the chapel I'd started to worry!" she said, Martin nodded,_

_"Hello Katharine."_

_"Why so glum?" she asked, Clavicus placed the article in front of her, and she gasped, "No! The Emperor is dead?!"_

_"And all of his heirs." Said Clavicus, looked at Martin as he set Torva down on a barstool, "They caught him at every turn, every escape route must have been watched, and there must have been a leak in the Blades or the Legion."_

_"That's terrible, what will we do now?" asked Katharine, she sniffed suddenly, "Hmm… the roast must be burning…" Martin smelled it too, a burning smell, almost like burning hair, "I'll be back in a minute…" she waddled away, a Kajiit who had been cleaning tables came near, tending to Torva. Martin recognized it as Torva's mother, Ra Vira,_

_"Was Dro' Shenja beating her up again?" she snarled, Martin sighed and nodded, "That boy… I'll give him such a paddling he won't forget it! Look at her hands!" she wiped the blood from her fur, "Thank you, Brother Martin, I know you try to look out for the children." Katharine poked her head out of the kitchen,_

_"Clavicus, it's not the roast, check around the Inn to make sure nothing is burning." She said, Clavicus grunted, "Don't be difficult, you big ape, I'll sooner be eaten by a scamp than let this place burn."_

_"I think you'd better do as your wife says." Said Martin, Clavicus sighed and stood up, walking away towards the upstairs of the bar. Ra' Vira picked Torva up, and Martin followed them out into the street, people bustling past as the sun set, getting home to eat supper and go to bed. "I have to get back to the chapel, evening prayer starts soon." Said Martin, Ra' Vira nodded, looking at Torva._

_"Shall we go with him?" she asked, Torva nodded, "It's been some time, I think a little prayer wouldn't hurt, especially now."_

_"It's getting dark." Said Martin, glancing upwards, he was puzzled as there were no stars in the sky, and thunder crackled in the distance, "Must be a storm coming in…"_

_"__Something__ is burning, Katharine was right." Said Ra'Vira, sniffing loudly, "Leave it to the nose of a pregnant woman. It's probably the guardsmen having another bonfire before the Sabbath."_

_"Perhaps…" Martin held the door open for her, walking with her into the chapel where other faithful were gathered in anticipation of evening prayer. Martin readied himself to speak of the Emperor, of his death, and wasn't looking forward to it, when another priest approached him. "Brother Maynard." He nodded politely,_

_"Martin, by the look on your face I can see that you've heard the news." Said Maynard. He wasn't a very pleasant man, but he never did anyone any wrong, and he always looked out for the people of Kvatch, now he looked slightly wary, "The other priests and I have come to an agreement concerning the Emperor's funeral."_

_"About who will represent the chapel? You can't possibly mean to send __me__?" Martin blanched, "I've not been here as long at you and the others, I don't think I've earned the right to attend the funeral procession."_

_"We disagree." Said Maynard, "For a man as young as you, you've shown great faith in the Order, and are very wise for your years. You will be at the head of the procession, along with a monk from Weynon Priory, a follower of Talos. The other representatives will follow in proper order."_

_"But –"_

_"I will take care of the evening prayer tonight, you must rest so that tomorrow you can make the journey to the Imperial City." Maynard actually smiled, Martin had never seen him smile with such pride, he practically __glowed__ with it. Martin swallowed hard and sat on a pew next to Ra'Vira, Torva squishing in between them, the prayer was quiet, and afterwards, Maynard spoke of the Emperor's death, and announced that Martin was to go and represent the chapel. Martin shrunk down in his seat,_

_'__I don't want to go back there__.' He thought '__I want to stay here, where no one at the Arcane University will recognize me__.' He spotted Lucia as she walked in absently, yawning and sitting some distance away in another seat, and he quickly sneaked up and sat beside her, startling her slightly,_

_"Oh!" she jumped slightly, "Oh it's you, Brother Martin. You startled me."_

_"Sorry." He said quickly, leaning backwards in his seat, "I don't want to go."_

_"Why not? You must be itching to stretch your legs after all this time." Said Lucia, "Think of it as an opportunity."_

_"I can't." he said quietly, so as to not disturb those in prayer for Uriel Septim, "It doesn't feel right to me."_

_"Why not?"_

_"Why do I feel that it stabs me __here__ whenever I think of his death?" Martin put a hand over his chest, Lucia looked puzzled. "I know that something is not right. This isn't just some extremist plot, I think something is very wrong with the situation." Lucia frowned, averting her eyes, biting her lip._

_"That's quite a talent for insight you have. For some reason I feel as if, quite suddenly, everyone's faith is wavering." Said Lucia. "Because it may be the fear and sadness of everyone else that you are feeling."_

_"Why would I feel that?"_

_"Maybe you have a connection to the divines." She said knowingly, "Maybe you simply are meant to see the Nine's great plan."_

_"I doubt that very much." Said Martin, "The things I see and feel are sometimes too dark for a man such as myself. Don't confuse me with a savior." Martin crossed his arms over his chest, "If the Emperor knew I was to be in his procession then he would be very disappointed."_

_"Procession?"_

_"You don't know?" Martin asked, "Lucia, the Emperor is –" Martin was stopped as Brother Maynard shot him a look of anger, the two of them had been talking too loud. "What's it matter anyway?" Martin snapped under his breath, "I mean nothing in this Empire."_

_"I doubt that." Said Lucia,_

_"You place your faith in me to quickly." He said, shaking his head and standing, walking outside. If there was going to be a storm, it would be the first storm in about two months. But Martin didn't smell the wet air, he smelled a pungent and acrid smell, one that made him cringe. He stepped off the chapel steps to look around, his eyes catching a faint light coming from down the street. It was almost like a faint glow around the chapel roof, Martin hurried around to check and see what it was, smelling something sweet and burning as he did so. When he rounded the corner, he froze with shock, the heat of the burning buildings making his skin hot, but he barely felt it. There was no screaming, and there was no alarm, Martin made to move to sound one but he was halted in his stride as he realized why no one was screaming or calling for help. They were dead, he saw the bodies lying the streets, bleeding into the gutters, and Martin ran ahead towards them, towards the burning Inn._

_"__Clavicus!__" he knew he couldn't go inside, the building was already engulfed, but he saw something wobble around it, limping and bleeding, trying to feel it's way towards the heat. Martin caught it as it fell,_

_"I… I can't… breathe…" the High Elf was shaking, his eyes were gone, bleeding holes of gelatin and sweat, "They… they came so fast…"_

_"What happened to the others in the Inn?"_

_"They… went to the castle…" he coughed, blood spattered on Martin's face and body, "Brother Martin… you must…find him…"_

_"I need to call help for…" he trailed off, with that last statement, the Altmer had collapsed backwards, his tongue hanging from his mouth, and his hands falling away from the large incision in his abdomen. Martin placed him down on the ground, and ran towards the chapel doors, only to find several figures waiting for him. He skidded to a halt, swallowing hard at the men in red robes,_

_"Well… it seems the little priest wandered too far away from his pen." With the lofty voice and accent this man had, Martin guessed it was a Breton, a Redguard and a Dark elf sat outside as well._

_"Who are you?" he demanded, Redguard sneered,_

_"Seems he's got his perfect little robes stained…" he said mockingly, Martin's eyes narrowed,_

_"Why are you doing this?" Martin spat, "It was you, in the street, all those __people__…"_

_"Don't fluster yourself." Said the Breton, his hand landed on Martin's shoulder, who shoved it off, and backed away, "You can go back to the chapel. We'll just burn it down, and you can die inside it rather than out in the cold."_

_"I'm warning you…" Martin tried, "G-get out of here. Leave."_

_"Is that a threat?"_

_"N-no, just get __out__." Martin warned, the Breton moved to draw his dagger. Martin didn't move, and the Breton put a sound slice into Martin's arm, dragging the blade into his skin. Martin flinched only slightly, he had felt worse, but the Breton licked the blood off the dagger, jabbing his finger into the cut, before edging closer to Martin._

_"Oohh… don't be so quick to retaliate. Maybe you and I could have some fun before this is over, what do you say to that, Imper –" he paused as Martin's fist slammed into his gut, the Breton felt the heat from the fireball shoot up and through him, slamming into the chapel door. The Breton fell forwards, his eyes wide as he fell, Martin backed up a few steps, his fist shaking, his eyes wide. He felt the panic that had gripped him return._

_'__What did I just do?! I killed him!__'_

_"By His Paradise…" the Dark Elf drew his blade, "You're no priest!"_

_"I…" Martin looked at his hand, in shock about what he had done. "I told you to leave."_

_"Ra Gada," the Dark Elf looked to the Redguard, "Kill him, then we can finish off the others in the chapel."_

_"Don't touch them!" Martin ordered,_

_"Damned hypocrite." Ra Gada sighed, "Go ahead inside, I'll finish this." He advanced quickly, the Dunmer disappearing into the chapel, "You'll be more fun to kill than that pregnant tavern wench." Martin felt his stomach lurch._

_"Katharine…" he breathed, he'd only been there minutes before, and now he questioned where Clavicus was._

_"So… you got so scared you put a hole in him…" Ra Gada kicked the Breton. "Fireballs don't just fly out of people willy nilly, do they? You've had training, both Destruction magic and hand to hand. Your father was probably a warrior."_

_"You cannot play with my mind." Martin said, "Because I am not afraid of you."_

_"And I see guilt in your past." Ra Gada continued, "Hate, fear… you ran from the darkness to the light, and you've still not found your salvation." The Redguard smirked, Martin felt the knowledge he had acquired of the magics of Hammerfell,_

_"You're a seer." Said Martin, Ra Gada smirked wider, "I'm surprised not to see you as a priest of Akatosh, one who can see through time such as yourself."_

_"You won't die here." Said Ra Gada, "Not completely, anyway." Martin was quick rush past him, shoving him out of the way, and running to the chapel doors. Ra Gada did not stop him, and Martin slammed the door behind him, locking him out, turning to the quivering crowd. The Dunmer man in red robes now made his way through the crowd, Martin saw him dragging another priest, and younger Imperial, behind him, leaving a trail of blood in his wake. Martin seethed with anger as he saw Torva in his other hands, being dragged by her tail, scratching and clawing at the floor to get away. The crowd parted easily, and the Dunmer shoved Maynard away, tossing another boy onto the altar so he bled freely upon it, and holding Torva in the air by her scruff._

_"People of Kvatch." He called, eyeing the dead boy evilly, and then turning to the crowd, "May I have your attention." It wasn't a request, Martin felt the door heave behind him, several other men were shoving and beating at them. With a quick flick of his wrist Martin used what little telekinesis he recalled and locked the other doors, the pounding on his door was splintering, his back throbbed with agony. "As you can tell, I do not come here as a bearer of good news. No doubt you've come here to pray for your little Emperor and his dead children, a line now snuffed and betrayed. You're afraid, because who would dare harm the Emperor, the descendant of __Talos__?" he mocked, he kicked Maynard away as he ran at him, and waved Torva in the air. "Retaliate and I __will__ kill this Kajiit." The door behind Martin's head splintered, several other men braced the doors in the chapel, Martin felt the anger burning in his chest. "We have begun to burn your village, the Inns first, most of the other citizens have fled to the castle, only to find more of us waiting for them." The Dunmer stabbed his bloody blade into the altar, he lowered Torva so she could look him in the eyes. "The schools and Guilds burn, all reinforcements are dead, as is your Count. Outside of your gate we plant the seeds of destruction, fiery portal to Oblivion, and soon, it will bring forth a beast that will ravage you and the cowardly Aedra you pray to." Martin was flung forwards, Torva kicked out at the Dunmer, and he gently touched her face with his forefinger. A sizzling noise erupted from her fur and skin, Torva struggled against him as he burned the rune into her right cheek, a rune that Martin knew only too well. It was daedric, and highly associated with Mehrunes Dagon, a strange demonic arch, and now Torva's skin burned with it as the Dunmer's hand pulled away._

_"Let her go!" Martin ordered,_

_"You will all die, even if you kill me. Even if your little hero priest kills us all, you will all fall at the hands of Lord Dagon!" Martin was on his feet, back at the door, Torva let out a loud snarl and lashed out at the Dunmer's face, her claws sinking into the flesh and skin of his nose, mouth, and eyes. He tossed her away, howling in pain, "You little __bitch__!" Martin saw Lucia run through the crowd, her eyes wild, her face enraged. Martin abandoned his post at the door to go after her,_

_"Lucia __don't__! He'll kill you!" but no sooner had the words left his mouth, Lucia struck, snatching the dagger from the Dunmer's grip, snapping his arm with a single motion, and stabbing him in the throat. The chapel went quiet, they could now hear the roaring of something coming closer, something that smelled of burning flesh and smoke. Martin swallowed hard, Torva scurried to the back of the chapel, to Ra' Vira and Martin, who saw several guards along the side of the chapel, they were moving towards Martin, Savlien Matius ordered his men through the door behind Martin,_

_"Brother Martin," he said sternly, "Calm everyone down and get them into the lower cellars."_

_"What about the people outside in the city?"_

_"We'll try." He said, before disappearing, and Martin turned,_

_"Everyone! Get into the cellars beneath the chapel. Every man or woman with combat experience stay above with me!" He saw Lucia drop the Dunmer off of her blade, and Ra' Vira gave the Torva over to her big brother. Dro' Shenja and Torva looked bewildered, but Ra' Vira shooed them downwards. There were only a few people, five or six at most, but most of them were people he knew. Ra'Vira, Lucia, a Nord woman named Lamia, a Orc man named Gnarlac Gro-Durnag, and an Argonian that everyone called Seek._

_"We can't hope to fight these things." Said Seek, Martin nodded,_

_"I need you all to sit outside the cellars, and make sure no one gets in while I'm gone." Said Martin, "I have to look for more survivors, I can't leave anyone behind."_

_"And you think that we'll let you go __alone__?" Gnarlac raised an eyebrow, "Not on your life."_

_"I'll go with Martin." Said Ra' Vira, "Lamia, Lucia, and Gnarlac can stay here. I'm the fastest out of all of us, if he's in trouble I'll be able to help him."_

_"Me too. I'm fast and good with a blade and Destruction." Said Seek, "And I can protect you both with alteration."_

_"I know I can stop a few men." Said Lamia, "But I don't know if I can stop dozens of killers and assassins."_

_"With the two of us crushing skulls," said Gnarlac, "It'll thin them out well enough, and it'll warn those inside of what's going on."_

_"There are routes out of the cellar that only people of the chapel know, they lead into the paths below the city." Said Lucia, "If you must fall back, do it, but don't let yourselves be killed." Martin heard a shrill scream in the city walls,_

_"And what of you, Martin?" asked Lamia, Martin swallowed hard, "Why don't you let Seek and R'Vira go on their own? You've no combat experience."_

_"I do." Said Martin, turning. Lamia wasn't content with that answer, neither were Seek and Gnarlac, but Lucia and Ra' Vira simply did as they were told. Ra' Vira and Seek followed Martin at a run, Seek passed a glowing hand over his face, his eyes glowing unnaturally._

_"I can see bodies in the Inn." He said, "They are warm, but they are dead, the fire is ravaging them." Martin nodded, and they pressed forwards through the smoky streets towards the Castle. Now every building burned, Martin saw armed guards and civilians who had put up a fight, and were knocked back and killed. There was a scuffle there, several assassins were being beaten at by a lone warrior, one who was cut and stabbed and bruised, but still kept on moving._

_"__Clavicus!__" Ra' Vira cried, he didn't turn, just lashed out at another assassin, and was stubbed under the shoulder blade by another. He fell to his knees, Martin could see the pain in his face as he drew closer, anger, and hate, and sadness all combined into one, tears and blood streaming down his face._

_"You…bastards…" he coughed, grinding his teeth and baring them like a wounded animal, "__I'll kill you all for what you did to her!__" Martin felt a fierce burning in his hand as he summoned up the debilitating energy, and he aimed his fireball into the swarm of assassins. Seek mimicked him onto a larger scale, Clavicus ducking beneath their feet so he would avoid being burned too badly. Most of the assassin's slumped to the ground, a few managed to escape with a few burns and ran off, while some were on fire, and trying to put it out._

_"Clavicus!" Martin called, Ra' Vira slammed her elbow into the face of a burning assassin, slamming her palm into his nose so hard that he fell limply backwards. Clavicus stood slowly, holding his sides. Martin rushed to him, grabbing hold of his shoulders, "What're you doing out here all alone? Where is everyone else?" asked Martin, Clavicus didn't lose the grim look on his face._

_"They're all dead." His voice was low, barely a whisper, but Martin heard it, "Everyone who ran from the burning buildings, they rounded up and slaughtered in the castle, along with the Count and the rest of the town guard… Martin…" Clavicus lost his quiet rage, he bit his lip, trying to hold in grief, "Martin… __she's dead__. They killed my Katharine!"_

_"I know…" said Martin, Clavicus put his face in his hands, sobbing uncontrollably. "Listen to me, there may be others that you didn't see in the city, someone may still be alive. And one of those men said that something was going on outside the city wall, maybe we can see what is going on." Clavicus pulled his hands away from his face, shaking his head, Martin knew the sad look on his face, he would refuse to move. Martin gritted his teeth,_

_"Martin, we must go." Said Seek, "We'll search in the area around here, some buildings are stone, they can't burn." The Kajiit and Argonian darted away towards the burning city, away from the walls._

_"I can't do this…" Clavicus sobbed, "She was everything to me –"_

_"I know who killed her." Martin said in a low voice, Clavicus looked up at Martin,_

_"Don't jest with me. How could you know?"_

_"Because he tried to taunt me before he tried to kill me." Said Martin, "He's still alive, I couldn't bring myself to kill him, and now you have a chance." The eerie silence made the hair on Martin's neck stand on end, Clavicus lost any emotion on his face or in his eyes, standing straight and looking forwards past Martin._

_"Where?"_

_"He was outside the chapel."_

_"He could be anywhere by now… did you happen to glean from them what they were planning?"_

_"Something is going on beyond the city gate." Martin had barely finished the sentence when Clavicus ran past him, Ra' Vira and Seek caught up with both he and Martin as they neared the gate. A group of the men in red robes stood there, Ra Gada clearly visible in the front,_

_"Well, well, well, the hero priest is still alive." He yawned, one of the other men rushed up behind Ra Gada, and whispered something in his ear. Martin didn't know what he said, but Ra Gada nodded, "I already knew that."_

_"They why did you let him live?!" the Imperial asked, Ra Gada shook his head._

_"Because burning him in the Inn with the others is not how you get satisfaction from killing."_

_"Clavicus, that's him." Martin pointed at Ra Gada, "He's the one who killed your wife." Ra Gada looked puzzled, but puzzlement quickly turned to concentration as Clavicus shot at him, a loud and snarling yell coming from his throat as he charged the Redguard. Seek and Ra' Vira dove into the fray as well, and Martin was knocked back to the ground. He was pinned there by Imperial who had scolded Ra Gada, Martin held him back, and he threw him away from him with a spell of shock. He fell away from Martin, twitching, and Martin was on his feet._

_Clavicus hacked and beat his way through the group, thinning it considerably before Ra' Vira and Seek got to it. Ra Gada retreated back out of the group, so when Clavicus swung out at him, he was ready. Clavicus got a sound cut into Ra Gada's abdomen as the Redguard dodged, but Ra Gada darted forwards and aimed low, cutting at Clavicus's already tired and wounded legs, but as Clavicus went down he tackled Ra Gada, wrapping his hands around his neck. Martin saw Ra Gada struggle against the older and larger Imperial man, kicking and slashing at him with his dagger, but Clavicus continued to strangle him, until the Redguard finally went limp. Most of the men had run off, now Martin, Ra' Vira, Seek, and Clavicus nursed their wounds, Ra' Vira and Clavicus more than the others. Clavicus's right eye was gone, and great deep cut in his stomach bled profusely, while Ra' Vira was beaten and bruised, her fur scalded and smoldering._

_"What now?" asked Seek,_

_"Get into the chapel." Said Martin, "They were thorough enough, there's no one left." The four of them shuddered and fell backwards as they ground began to shake, a great sound reverberated in the air like a massive roar. A loud crash was heard, and an equally loud explosion struck the chapel tower, cracking it and splintering it. It teetered, and toppled, slamming into the streets below, rock and rubble were thrown about, one particularly large piece of mortar slammed into Ra' Vira, her head struck the ground, hard, Martin heard an audible 'snap'. Both Martin and Seek rushed to her, Martin lifting her up, but her neck was twisted abnormally, and her head bled profusely. Martin felt for her pulse, and found no heartbeat. "…She's dead."_

_"This is not a good omen." Seek said, "The death of an innocent by the house of the gods? What can this possibly mean?"_

_"Get to the chapel!" Martin ordered, Clavicus hadn't moved, and now he slowly stood, holding his stomach, blood seeping from his mouth. Seek helped Clavicus towards the chapel as Martin lifted Ra' Vira off of the ground, he heard the loud rumbling get closer and closer, "Run!" Seek got there first, holding the door open for Martin, waving him through._

_"Hurry, hurry! I can see them coming over the walls!" Seek warned. Martin stopped, turning briefly to glance at the walls. His stomach clenched at seeing scamps, Spider Daedra, and Clannfears scrambling over the walls, a great flaming monstrosity followed them in their wake, slamming through the wall and knocking down buildings. Dremora's poured into the city. "__Martin! Get inside!__" Martin felt his stomach lurch, Ra' Vira's lifeless body swayed limply in his arms._

_How many people had to die, just because he was too timid to use what magic he had? Why was his faith, his chastity, his duties as a priest of Akatosh more important than the lives of his friends? Martin didn't know why, but he didn't care anymore. He knew ways to stop daedra, he knew how to scare them away, and how to control them, and he finally decided not to let people suffer for his righteous behavior anymore._

_"Take her." Martin handed Ra' Vira to Seek, "Close the door, I'll be inside in a moment."_

_"What? Why?!" Seek took Ra' Vira as Martin stepped back out walking towards the horde of oncoming daedra, "Are you insane?! Get in here!"_

_"Close the chapel door." Martin ordered calmly,_

_"No! Not you!" Seek scolded, "Everyone knows you, everyone will be crushed if you die, Brother Martin! Don't take their one chance for hope away!"_

_"__I said to close the door!__" Martin barked, Seek flinched, "I __will__ be in momentarily!" Seek shut the door slowly,_

_"Stay alive."_

_Martin looked around at the Dremoras surrounding the chapel, they eyed him with hungry eyes and vicious tongues, he shut his eyes, recalling ancient words that he had learned. Forbidden words, Martin didn't have enough faith in the gods above, not enough to believe that they would protect the tiny chapel without some help. So he brought his energy into his hands, mumbling the ancient and evil words, his tongue felt hot and his mind faltered, but he continued to chant. He felt the cold spirits of the dead around him writhe, he felt as though he had a crushing grip on them as he pulled them to him. He lifted his arms, his hands palm outwards, one towards the sky, another towards the ground. Daedra were afraid of some things, like enchanted blades and fierce warriors, their masters, and they were afraid of the unseen and powerful dead._

_Martin felt the breath suddenly knocked out of him, but he continued, fighting for air, the cold winds of the dead around him whipped about the chapel. A great sizzling sound erupted from around the church, great black runes burned themselves into the ground in a circle around the chapel, and in a faint red halo around the ruined chapel tower. Martin felt his body burning, his skin felt as if dozens of knives were digging into his shoulders and back, his hands felt as if they were on fire, and he still concentrated until the point of unconsciousness. He felt his body slump backwards, his head striking the stone steps, and his vision went dark, the daedric runes burned into the city streets faded into the stone. Seek stuck his head out, when he found Martin lying on the steps he quickly dragged him back, watching the daedra slam into the invisible wall before them._

_"Martin…" he looked down at the priest, "…What did you do?!"_


	19. The Snake

This chapter I wanted to show a bit more of Alastor's personality, that while he is obnoxious and a joy to write because he's as crass as I am in real life, he can smooth talk his way through anything... like me, again (I've been told I should be on the suicide hotline). But, he does have a strong affection for Martin and sympathizes greatly, not only that he greatly respects the wonderful world of booze and drugs (I'm not a member of that club, but he is a mild version of some of my friends in high school, and he has a voice that could worm him into any woman's panties. Arbo is more straightforward and less sexual, but his is very warmhearted, but has a vicious and brutal temper, resulting with his life in the Dark Brotherhood (he lost his temper as a child and bashed his abusive father's face in with his own battleaxe, and Alastor stabbed his Dumner schoolteacher in the throat with a quill). You also may remember Quinn mentioning she'd had a previous relationship? Guess who?*cough*Arboghast*cough*

* * *

"Fuck me, Arboghast, you look damn good in Akaviri armor." Alastor said, Arboghast fidgeted in it, yanking at it and adjusting the greaves.

"This thing is gonna make me chafe, I know it." He said, Arboghast looked to Jauffree, "How did I end up like this? Speaker for the Black Hand playing dress up with goody two shoes like you?"

"You don't like our armor?"

"I'm more sneaky." Said Arboghast, Alastor snorted,

"He likes the gimp suits that Ocheeva and Arquen make the boys wear." Said Alastor, "Did you hear about Lucien?"

"What of him?" asked Jauffree, Arboghast returned to fidgeting with his armor, yanking and pulling at various areas of his body.

"Arboghast put in a complaint, Lucien's on constant watch now. They caught him trying to get to the Mythic Dawn headquarters three nights ago. Probably trying to rat out Martin's location."

"Bastard." Arboghast muttered, Jauffree sighed,

"That would have been a threat a week ago, Ne Quin-al infiltrated it and wiped out a large amount of the Mythic Dawn agents." Jauffree sighed, Arboghast swore loudly as he moved incorrectly, and pinched a vital part of his anatomy, swearing and screaming with rage. "Be quiet! Martin is sleeping!"

"Is Quinn here?" asked Alastor, over Arboghast's angry hissing,

"No, she's on another errand, Martin has uncovered a way to follow Mankar Camoran and get the Amulet of Kings back. There are a few items he needs to open a portal, and the first was a deadric artifact, now she needs the armor of Tiber Septim."

"_Gah! That's why I hate heavy armor!_" Arboghast complained. Whining loudly, he looked at Jauffree beseechingly, "Why do _I_ have to do it?! Why not Alastor?"

"I know you." Said Jauffree, "Your brother seems agreeable, but if Lucien Lachance changes his mind on keeping Martin alive, you're the one I want him to run into, but I don't want to put the rest of the Black hand at risk if a member of the Mythic Dawn encounters you."

"Good point," said Arboghast, wincing, "Covering all the bases except for the ones over my balls." He sat down finally, "As long as I stay sitting I feel fine…" he sighed, "When's Quinn getting back?"

"I'm not sure, she left yesterday for Sancre Tor."

"Oof, that place is _rough_." Said Alastor, "Back in my adventuring days I tried to get in there, ended up dragging myself back to Bruma with a broken leg and nearly bleeding to death." He was picking his teeth with his thumb. "What's Martin doing in the meantime?"

"Sweating, most likely." Said Arboghast,

"You think so?"

"How would you be? He's just been named the last heir to the throne, and he's got a legion of spies and assassins after him. Not to mention a daedric lord and his minions want to skin him and wear it as clothing, a very powerful high elf wizard wants to eat his brains with a spoon and a teaspoon of sugar. _And_ the girl he cares about is off doing the dirty work, got mucked up in all of this with him, and all he can do is sit here and twiddle his thumbs."

"I feel sorry for him." Said Jauffree, "But what can we do?"

"I've got an idea." Alastor rubbed his chin thoughtfully, Arboghast and Jauffree looked skeptical, "We can't make the problems disappear permanently, but we can make him _feel_ like they're gone. Just for a little while."

"I know what you're going to say," said Arboghast, "And it won't work. He doesn't drink, he never has."

"So? Use a spell of illusion, make the wine taste like water." Said Alastor,

"We need him sober and alert." Said Jauffree. Alastor sighed,

"When was the last time you and your men had a good bender, eh? Back when Tiber Septim shot upwards? You've got _something_ stored down there, and Quinn got me some really neat bottles of –"

"_No_." Arboghast said firmly.

"Come on, the poor guy is practically shaking in his boots! At least let him relax a little –"

"_No_." Jauffree echoed Arboghast's words, and Alastor crossed his arms over his chest and pouted, "Honored Speaker, please keep an eye on your little brother for me."

"With pleasure, Grandmaster." Arboghast nodded at Alastor, who flopped down on the ground and scowled at his brother. Arboghast excused himself after a time, and Jauffree glanced around silently before looking to Alastor.

"She got some of Bernice's Roofwater wine, too, spiced with Greenmote and everything…" Alastor grumbled,

"Personally, I think that it would have been a good idea." Said the monk, Alastor blanched, "But, Quinn isn't here to protect him tonight, so he needs to be on his guard."

"You're a funny little man, you know that?"

"Or," Said Jauffree, "Some Greenmote could slip into his water."

"Why cover for me with Arboghast?" asked Alastor, standing up.

"Guard's changing soon." Said Jauffree, "You'd better go while Roliand is still on shift, he'll be asleep."

"Yes _sir_." Alastor hurried away, sneaking past Arboghast to get to his bag, and pulling a bottle of Bernice's Roofwater wine, and a bag of Greenmote that Quinn slipped to him. Alastor didn't know why, but Greenmote helped him sleep, and recently he'd been having a problem with nightmares and insomnia, so Quinn gave him her bag of Greenmote from the Shivering Isles. As for Martin being sober anytime soon… Alastor wasn't about to let that happen.

The man was tired, stressed, and so full of anxiety you could see him trembling with it wherever he went, he could barely light a candle without burning his fingers. Because of the Book, because of his role in the world, and mostly because of Quinn. What Alastor hadn't told Jauffree about Bernice's Roofwater wine, was that you were drunk for a day after two glasses, and that was with the normal amount of Grennmote. Alastor easily slipped past Roliand and into the room, finding with some dismay Martin up and about. Martin didn't notice him, his nose was stuck in a book, so Alastor stood.

"Hey Priest." Alastor waved slightly, Martin's reaction was to drop the book and let out a loud exclamation of surprise.

"_Gah!_"

"Relax! It's just me!" Alastor said calmly, "Take a deep breath, I'm only here with a present."

"I'm sorry… I didn't hear you come in." Martin put his face in his hands, "I haven't been quite myself lately…"

"I can see that. You're wound tight, why is that?"

"Besides the obvious reasons?" asked Martin, crankily, Alastor was taken aback by the annoyed tone in his voice.

"I'm just trying to be friendly." He snapped right back, "Here." He held out the bottle of wine, and wandered over to the other side of the room, towards Martin's water pitcher, as Martin read the label.

"Bernice's Roofwater Wine? Where did you get this?" asked Martin, Alastor dumped half the bag of Greenmote into Martin's water, then returned to where Martin could see him. Greenmote was a mushroom found in the Shivering Isles, in it's unprocessed form it was thick and sludgy, tasted like bad goat cheese. But processing made it powdery and light, it became translucent in water, and was virtually tasteless.

"Quinn gave it to me." Said Alastor,

"I hope this isn't the 'present' you're giving me, I don't drink." Said Martin, standing up,

"It's not a good time to start?" asked Alastor, Martin sighed and looked at the bottle, "One glass."

"No."

"Okay, okay, _half a glass_."

"_No_." Martin handed the bottle back to Alastor, who didn't take it.

"It'll help you sleep." Said Alastor, "I'm a damn insomniac, and I sleep like a drunk baby after one glass of this."

"Because you are a drunk baby, now take this." Alastor feigned giving up and took the bottle, Martin walked over to his pitcher of water, "I prefer water, I'm not so sure that I could drink anything else." Alastor held back giggles as Martin poured himself a cup of water and put it to his lips, he only took a sip but Alastor could see an immediate change in him. He blinked, and smacked his lips with his tongue,

"Martin?"

"My tongue feels odd." He said, he looked at his water, "That's strange."

"What is?"

"I feel odd." He said, "Like my mouth is warm."

"Must be something you ate, drink some more water to flush it out of you." Said Alastor, "Maybe wine isn't the best idea." The reason Arboghast kept Alastor around was because Alastor was a charmer, a snake, a person who could talk his way in or out of any situation. Martin sighed and took a rather large gulp, one that even made Alastor have to turn around and giggle into his fist, and then pretend to sneeze to cover it up. Martin blinked again, then got a very grumpy look on his face,

"What did you do?" he put the cup down,

"What gave it away?"

"I have _Night Eye_." He scowled, "And I feel _strange_." He said, "You put something in my water!"

"Well, seeing as how you're going to be feeling even weirder in about five minutes," he held the bottle out to Martin, who took it absently, "It won't hurt now."

"What's going to happen?"

"Well, with Greenmote you get very touchy-feely, you may want to keep an eye on that. Also, you get very hungry and your sweet tooth goes crazy."

"Ugh." Martin held his stomach,

"Also, you get very… uh… how do I say this so as not to hurt your little priestly ears…"

"Spit it out."

"You get very… cuddly? Is that a good way to say it?" Said Alastor, Martin scowled deeper. "Look, it was Jauffree's idea too."

"And how is this supposed to help me sleep? I feel more awake than before!"

"Oh, you'll be sleepy." Said Alastor, "Don't you worry about that." Martin sighed in frustration, "Just sit here and read your little book, you'll feel happy, and you'll go to sleep, _that's it_." Martin still had a grumpy look on his face. "It's not a bad thing, the worst compulsion you'll get is to knock boots with somebody, that's all there is to it!"

"You don't understand." Said Martin, "I've never done anything before, not even a sip of ale! How do you think this is going to affect me?"

"Oh… uh, you'll probably make it to third base with Quinn." Said Alastor, Martin put his face in his hands, "And you'll have funny dreams."

"I already _do_." Said Martin, "You're an _idiot _–" he paused as Baurus poked his head in,

"My Lord? Quinn's back, she wants to talk to you."

"Oh good_…_" Martin stood up, Alastor shook his head at him, "Why not?"

"Uh… you get a little bit silly, you'll say really odd things." Said Alastor, "_I'll_ go get her."

"What's going on?" asked Baurus, Alastor smirked,

"Jauffree's orders, gave him something to help him sleep." He hurried away as Martin felt the overwhelming urge to eat something sweet, and he felt fidgety and odd.

"He slipped you something, huh?" asked Baurus. Martin nodded, jabbing his thumb towards his pitcher of water,

"Greenmote."

"Ah," said Baurus, "she gave me some of that so I could sleep one time, I had to drink two bottles of ale with it for it to work, otherwise I'd have been up all night."

"I was hoping this would remedy that."

"Don't worry, you're a Septim, because of your connection to Talos you have a higher resistance to things like that. It'll wear off faster."

"I do?" Martin asked, "It will?"

"Here, let me get rid of this." Baurus took the pitcher of water, "I'll have Jena clean it out and get you some fresh water." Baurus left, but Martin still felt fidgety and hyperactive. He stood and walked to the window, sliding it open and poking his head out into the cold air. It was quiet, Martin felt snow falling onto his head, and melting into his hair, the ground already coated with it in a thick slushy layer, he pulled his head back in and shook his head of snow, shivering slightly. Roliand snorted and stood up straight, yawning loudly, Martin looked over at him, and then to the figure walking towards him, he felt his mouth open slightly, and when it did he quickly closed it. Quinn wasn't in her leather armor, Quinn was in something altogether more revealing, and she quickly darted over to Martin. She was wearing black armor, beautifully carved and molded, her helmet almost looked like a plume of sharp feathers, her skirt was… small, and her cuirass was… smaller. It was like the armor Naga wore, only Quinn was less flat and more rounded than Naga was, Martin swallowed hard and smiled wryly at Quinn's beaming face.

"Hello Martin!" she called, he let out a nervous chuckle, she jabbed her thumb back towards the Great Hall, "The armor is on the table, Jauffree and Baurus are keeping an eye on it."

"How was it? Are you hurt?"

"No, it wasn't too bad, just some skeletons and some wild animals." She said,

"And you did it, in _that_?" he asked, Quinn raised an eyebrow and laughed softly,

"Yes I did. I've done harder while _naked_." She said, "At any rate, you have the blood of the daedra, and the blood of the divines, so what's next?"

"When naked?"

"Oh _Martin_…" she sighed, putting a hand over her face, Martin shrugged,

"A portal of that size would need a large power source, my translations lead me to believe that the next item is a great Welkynd stone."

"Great, that should be easier than the armor of Tiber Septim. Where is it?" asked Quinn, Martin shook his head,

"I haven't gotten a chance to look up the location, it's an Ayleid ruin called Miscarcand."

"Miscarcand…" Quinn tapped her chin with her forefinger, "I think I've heard that name before." She bit her lip and reached into her satchel, pulling out her map, "I think I've _been_ there before…"

"Supposedly it's one of the only ruins that hasn't been looted."

"Oof, I hope I didn't take it and sell it already…" she sat on the bed beside him, her finger tracing the little symbols on the parchment. Tiny letters were scribbled with the names of the various caves and mines she'd found, until at last her finger came to rest between Kvatch and Skingrad. "…That's just weird."

"What is?"

"Miscarcand is the same Ayleid ruin we stayed in the night after I met you Kvatch!" said Quinn. Martin's eyes widened,

"Which means that there is a coven of Vampires between you and your goal." Said Martin. Quinn rolled up the map and put it away, leaning back slightly,

"I'll figure it out."

"Maybe there's another way, another ruin. I'll try and find –"

"We don't have the time to look for another ruin." Said Quinn, Martin look put out, and extremely worried, "You need to worry less about me, and more about yourself."

"I should say the same to you." Said Martin. Quinn and he were silent for a time, making furtive glances at one another, until their eyes finally met. Martin felt a strange sensation as the Greenmote Alastor had given him faded away,

"Did Jauffree talk to you about an Empress yet?" Quinn asked,

"Indirectly."

"About _me_ being the Empress?"

"Yes." Said Martin. Quinn swallowed hard,

"I don't know if I'm Empress material, but…" Quinn shrugged, "I could… _try_."

"Quinn you don't need to be dragged into every difficult situation that I have to deal with." He said,

"I want to help you." She said, "I don't want to leave you."

"You'd do that for me?"

"Yes."

"It'll be very hard." Said Martin, "For both of us, the whole line is dead except for _me_, and I still have so much to learn."

"I know." Said Quinn, Martin took her hand, squeezing it gently, and Quinn squeezed back,

"Ow!" Martin recoiled, Quinn had forgotten about her gauntlets, they were curved and sharp, she quickly took them off and put them aside, Martin shook his hand, and sighed, chuckling.

"I'm sorry!" she put her hands over her mouth, "I didn't mean to hurt you!" His hand took hers again and pulled them away from her mouth, the stinging pain in his right hand subsiding as she edged closer to him. "Oh, I always know how to mess things up! I'm sorry!"

"Stop apologizing."

"I'm sor –" but she was silenced. Ne Quin-al felt heat rush through her body, blood rushing to her face, suddenly aware of a tingling sensation in her body. Martin's mouth was pressed to hers, and when he pulled away, Quinn blinked a few times.

"Well you could _say_ something." Martin said nervously,

"Uh… where did that come from?" asked Quinn, Martin shrugged, "I… uh… didn't expect that."

"Me either." Said Martin, it only took a moment before the magnetism between them made them kiss again, Martin looping his arms around her waist while Quinn threw her arms around his neck. His mouth captured hers over and over, his tongue driving her mad as it probed and teased the inside of her mouth, and her trembling lips made Martin hold her tightly against him. Quinn's body felt such heat and need like she'd never felt before, when he pulled her close she felt her need turn to desperation, and her mouth hardened slightly on his. Martin's mouth left hers, by his breathlessness she could tell he felt the same desperation as she, and his mouth left a trail of kisses down her neck,

"Should we be doing this?" Quinn panted, Martin didn't answer, he kissed her again, pulling her helmet off of her head and tossing it away, his hands tracing down her back, and Quinn tugging at his robes. She felt his fingers fumbling as he tried to unclasp her cuirass, but everything came to a grinding halt as a loud knock landed on Martin's door.

"_Shit._" Martin cursed in a low voice, Quinn quickly adjusted herself, "Who is it?"

"Ya' Tirrje." It was muffled, "I must speak with his Highness, may I come in?" Quinn quickly pulled her armor back on and stood, adjusting her helmet.

"Come in, father." She called, Martin stayed sitting, looking put out and grumpy. Ya' Tirrje slid the door open,

"I'm sorry to bother you so late at night, your Highness." Ya' Tirrje bowed respectfully, "But my forces from Elsweyr are here, and they wish to see you."

"How many?" Martin stood,

"Two dozen, I'm afraid I couldn't spare as many as I would like." Said Ya' Tirrje, "Also, a Breton woman and a Argonian mage have arrived, they've been asking for Brother Martin. The word has somehow gotten out of your whereabouts."

"That's Lucia and Seek!" said Martin, "Was there anyone else with them?"

"It looked like the Argonian was carrying something on his shoulders, it may have been a child but I didn't get close enough to tell." Martin bit his lip, "They're still in the Great Hall."

"And I'll head to Miscarcand and get the next item." Said Quinn, Martin began to sputter with protest, "Don't worry, greet your new reinforcements and catch up with your friends… and your mother." said Quinn, Martin nodded slowly, Quinn kissed his cheek gently, then quickly departed. Ya' Tirrje looked after her, then to Martin,

"My timing is horrible, I know." He said, Martin averted his eyes away from Ya' Tirrje, "But, business before pleasure, eh?"

"…Eh."


	20. The Dragon Mother

Martin, after cleaning himself up a little bit and changing into a set of clean robes, ran to the Great hall of Cloud Ruler Temple. He didn't stop to let Baurus or Jauffree catch up, only when he nearly slammed into the door to the Great Hall did he slow down. He skidded to a halt as he saw the figures beside the fireplace, Lucia, Seek, and a figure curled up on Lucia's lap, yawning and stretching. His first instinct was to run over to them, but Ya' Tirrje, who had kept up with Martin, stopped him,

"See to the soldiers first, your friends will still be there." He said softly, Martin nodded, "Rule number one when ruling a large mass of people, put your personal feelings aside, and act for their greater health." He motioned towards the doorway, where two large Kajiit stood, "These are the captains of the two units I sent for: Ohmes –Raht," he motioned to a great blonde Kajiit with striking brown eyes, the leather armor on him was thick and brown, silver beads were woven into his hair, "And this is Eshita, my personal bodyguard." She was darker in color, black patches of fur covered her eyes and hands, and her armor was the same color as Ohmes. She had blue eyes, odd for a Kajiit, and her hair was stuck up in a large Mohawk, the two Kajiit bowed deeply.

"An honor to meet you both." Martin said,

"Ohmes, Eshita, any orders you receive from this man are primary, they take precedent above mine, as of now." The two Kajiit said nothing, just nodded, Ya' Tirrje looked to Martin, "May I suggest, your Highness, that you place these two warriors at the entrance to Cloud Ruler Temple?"

"That would be wise, yes." Said Martin, "Where are the other soldiers?"

"Out on patrol, I took the liberty of assigning them posts. They'll be silent and undetected."

"Let's keep it that way, so the Mythic dawn won't know what hit them if they get the stones to attack us." Said Martin, "Thank you."

"It is no trouble, your Highness… Ohmes, please rest so that you may start tonight, Eshita you will guard during the day." Ya' Tirrje said, Ohmes followed a Blade towards the kitchen and barracks while Eshita took her place by the door. "Martin, I believe that concludes the business, I think it's appropriate to see your friends."

"I think it is."

"I'll see to it that you're not disturbed by a particular nosy monk." Ya' Tirrje walked away, leaving Martin to hurry up to the group next to the fireplace. Torva was the first up, scrambling off of Lucia's lap as the Breton woman slept.

"_Brother Martin!_" Martin kneeled down in time to have her grab him around the neck, clinging on tightly.

"I'm so glad you're alright…" Martin squeezed her gently, Seek gently eased off the bench so as not to disturb Lucia in her sound sleep. "What happened after I left? Where's Torva's brother?"

"He perished as well." Said Seek, "Gnarlac survived, as did Lamia, and many others, but… most of our friends are dead."

"I'm sorry, Torva." Martin said, Torva pulled away,

"You smell like a Kajiit." She said, "That big white one."

"His name is Ya' Tirrje, he's a friend of mine." Martin explained, Seek looked anxious, wringing his hands, "None of you know why I'm here, do you?"

"I like it here… but I don't know where we are." Said Torva, "Lucia knew you would be here."

"She never said _why_." Said Seek, "Are you a Blade?"

"No." said Martin, he swallowed hard, clenching his jaw, "I'm… the heir to the throne." Seek's eyes widened and he made a deep gurgling noise in his throat, in Argonian it probably would have been a curse word. Torva started giggling,

"Martin, you silly." She said, "Bad liar."

"But I'm not lying, Torva." Said Martin, she kept giggling, and when she saw that his face remained serious, her laughing faded,

"You… you really are…" Torva touched Martin's face, "I didn't mean to laugh, I thought you pretending." She squinted, "You looked the same as the face on the gold coins…"

"A lot of people did." Said Seek, his eyes still wide, "So what of Lucia? How did she know?"

"She's Blade." Said Martin, averting his eyes, Seek grinned wryly,

"I thought it was odd that she took the death of the Emperor so hard." Said Seek, Martin shrugged, "That explains quite a bit… Where's the little assassin that you left the chapel with?"

"She's left on an errand for me." Said Martin,

"She has pointy ears." Said Torva, "I saw them in her hood, and her teeth are pointy." Torva stuck her finger in her mouth and started playing with her own teeth. "Is she a Kajiit person?"

"She is, actually." Said Martin, "The big white Kajiit is her father."

"This is really…" Seek shook his head, "This is a bit much."

"Did you eat?" asked Martin, Torva gnawed on her own fingers as she shook her head, Seek shook his head, "Baurus," Martin looked over at the Red Guard, "Can you take Torva and Seek to the kitchen?"

"Sure." He waved them over, Torva hesitant to let go of Martin until Seek pried her away, and they disappeared. Martin glanced around the Great Hall, during his conversation with Torva and Seek the other Blades had filed out of the room and disappeared. Martin was alone with Lucia, and he sat on the bench beside her silently, summoning up the courage to wake her, his hand landed on her shoulder gently,

"Lucia." He shook her very, very gently, getting a groan from her, she opened her eyes slowly, yawning. "Wake up." At seeing Martin she sat upright,

"Brother Martin?"

"I think it's odd that you of all people call me that. Especially now." Said Martin, Lucia looked puzzled. "He told Quinn."

"Quinn? Who's Quinn?"

"Ne Quin-al. The little assassin that came to the Chapel. He told her about me, and about you." Lucia bit her lip,

"What exactly did he tell her about me?"

"That you're my real mother." He said, Lucia looked away, her face flushing a bright red, and she covered he face with her hands.

"By the Nine… what a way to find out…"

"Lucia, you know I've loved you like a mother since my own… since Erin died." Martin said, Lucia nodded, "I'm not angry about why you didn't tell me, Quinn explained everything about Caula and her vendetta against Uriel –"

"Uriel told her so much." Said Lucia, "Is she really that trustworthy? Ever since Jagar Tharn he was always so mistrusting, she must be as honest as a Saint."

"She really is." Said Martin, scratching his head, "But, I'm glad you came here I wanted to talk to you in person about this."

"I only came here to tell you myself." Said Lucia, "When he finally found me after Caula died… I didn't know what I would hear from his mouth. He has eyes and ears everywhere, I knew that he'd know what you were up to and how you were doing."

"So that's how you found me?"

"Sort of." She said, "When he told me of the incident at the Mages Guild… I said things that weren't called for."

"Why?"

"I… I blamed him." She said, "I screamed at Uriel, cursed him, told him it was his fault because he wasn't there to guide you, and that…" Martin saw her face begin to break, her eyes filling with heavy tears. "That was last time I saw him, you were still just a teenage boy, it was so soon after Balin's death –"

"You came looking for me after that, and how did you find me?" Martin asked, Lucia shook her head,

"I didn't… Uriel did, and had a messenger tell me. He… attended several of your sermons." Said Lucia, folding her hands in her lap as Martin's face flushed, "Usually dressed as a beggar, with Legion soldiers in disguise all around him… but he had to see you, nothing could dissuade him."

"He was _there_? Why didn't he come forwards? Why didn't he tell me –"

"You _intimidated_ him." Lucia gained the arrogant and smug look to her face, one that she usually got on her face when she was beating Martin at a game of cards or something of that nature. "Your intellect, the way you spoke and the humility in your voice made him stay in his seat, made him listen to what you had to say. Uriel said that you had this way about you, that when you spoke he felt like he'd known you for your whole life, and he was so nervous and baffled by who you had become he couldn't get the nerve to get up and talk to you."

"I scared the _Emperor_?" Martin asked incredulously, "I didn't think my sermons were _that_ bad."

"No, that fact that your opinions and beliefs were exactly like his own made him… proud." She said, "In the last letter he sent me, he told me that he was getting closer and closer to telling you the truth, that he wanted to tell you himself, I was so _happy_." She looked sad again, frowning deeply and her eyes filling with tears again, "But then… Ne Quin-al came."

"She was with him when he died."

"Was she? Then why is he dead?" asked Lucia, angrily,

"Because he was trying to _save_ her." Said Martin, "It's not her fault."

"I know its not… at least _now_ I know." Said Lucia, "How did she do escorting you up here? Were you hurt? Do I have to beat her?" she squinted at Martin, her eyes traveling down to his neck, "By the Nine –"

"Oh no." Martin's hand slapped over the scar from Vicente's teeth, "Lucia it's not what you think."

"She let you get attacked by a bloody _Vampire?_"

"Who is _dead_ now, thanks to her and the friends she recruited to help us." Said Martin, "I'm _fine_, that was weeks ago, I haven't turned." Martin removed his hand, Lucia eyed him oddly, one eye wider than the other in a look of wild surprise. "Quinn is very good at what she does, she's a good friend."

"You little foolish thing!"

"What did I do now?"

"You are a mad man." She said, "You've fallen for the timid thing! I can see it in your face!" said Lucia, pointing, "You're _crazy!_"

"Then so is she," said Martin, getting a look of shock from Lucia, "She's a nice girl."

"Bah! I'll believe that when I see it!"

"Now I can see where I get my pig headed qualities from." Said Martin, Lucia was about to say something else when the Entrance doors to Cloud Ruler Temple creaked open, and in slid the dark and stealthy form of Lucien Lachance. He stood there for a moment after spotting Martin by the fireplace, "Lucia, I think you should go."

"Not on your life, I stay." She said, spotting Lucien as he wandered closer, she stood, "Well, well, well, Speaker Lachance." She said loudly, Martin stood as well. The way Lucia was standing, with her feet apart and her arms across her chest, it already seemed as if she was taking up her role as a Blade and donned armor.

"You _know_ him?" asked Martin.

"Sure I do." She said, as Lucien bowed politely, but reluctantly,

"Captain Constant, what a surprise." He said sourly, "What dragged you out of your retirement?"

"What do you want, Lucien?" Martin asked, Lucien let his eyes pass between the two,

"So, you think I won't put two and two together? I can see the resemblance between you two." Said Lucien, "I've come to speak to Quinn."

"She's not here." Said Lucia, "Now piss off."

"Hmm… not as eloquent as your boy." Said Lucien, "Still, it is quite the surprise to see you alive and kicking."

"What do you want with Quinn?" asked Martin, Lucien scowled,

"Captain Constant, I have a need to speak to the Emperor alone."

"Like hell." She spat into the fire,

"Lucia, it's all right." Said Martin, "I want to speak to him anyway."

"You sure?" asked Lucia, Martin nodded slowly, "I'm changing into my armor, but I'm coming back to check on the two of you." She said,

"You'd best go." Said Lucien, "This is a private matter, one you wouldn't want to hear of." Lucia didn't leave right away, hovering near the door until Martin shooed her out, while he did so Lucien sat beside the fire, a look of anxiousness on his face that Martin hadn't seen before.

"What of Quinn?"

"…There is something you must know." Lucien said, "This may be the best time to tell you, I don't want her to be involved in my problem."

"What is it?" Martin asked sternly, Lucien looked up at him tiredly,

"For once, just _once_, don't look at me like I'm a murdering bastard not worth your time. This is _important_." Lucien said slowly, "Quinn is in danger."

"By you? That's not a surprise."

"No, not from me… but because I was naïve enough to think that the traitor in the Dark Brotherhood wouldn't tamper with the assignments I gave her!" said Lucien, "The traitor, the one we've been searching for, has been replacing my orders with new ones. These order swaps have caused her to kill, not the desired targets, but Speakers and Silencers of the Black Hand!" Lucien said, Martin was surprised to see him looking so overwhelmed, tears of frustration welling in his eyes, his usually emotionless or angry face was filled only with worry, "They've concluded that she is not doing this of her own will. They suspect _me_ because I am her Speaker, she's _my_ responsibility."

"She's not the one in danger."

"No, no, she _is_." Lucien shook his head, "Now that I've been labeled a traitor, no one would care if she died except for me and Arboghast!"

"No, the Black Hand is after you… and you apparently don't care." Martin said, warily, "…You're actually worried about Quinn."

"The _real_ traitor may take pleasure in killing her, I can't let that happen!"

"Calm yourself, she can handle it."

"_You don't understand_!" Lucien shrieked, standing up, his hood fell down away from his head, "Bellamont! He kills for pleasure, he doesn't care who it is! I know who the real traitor is, and because Arboghast raised suspicion about me, they won't listen to me! Quinn's assignment to protect you is not a secret, he could come here and kill you!"

"_Stop_." Martin ordered, Lucien still shook, his hands clenching and unclenching, his breaths coming hard, "What do you need me to do?"

"Tell Quinn…" Lucien lost his voice, his sentence trailed off, "I have to lead them away from her, I have to leave a clumsy trail so they will find and deal with me before they interrogate her…"

"Lucien, you let that woman destroy her own life, and because you knew she cared about me you tortured me! Now you're losing your mind over a minor threat to her –"

"It is not a minor threat! _Bellamont knows I'm in love with her_!" Lucien screamed, Martin felt surprise hit him in the gut, "I tried to _kill_ you, because I was trying to protect her! I tried to _kill _you, so you wouldn't be in the way!"

"Quinn was scared of you." Said Martin, "She still is." Lucien suddenly broke down, his knees buckled and hit the ground hard, his hands landing in front of him to brace himself against the floor, his head drooped.

"Please…" Lucien shook his head, his hand reached out to the edge of Martin's robes. "I… I can't take this anymore… Please let me be with her…"

"You don't get it, do you?" Martin asked, "You broke her heart into a thousand pieces with the way you betrayed her. They way you made Vicente hate her, you hurt her…" Martin stepped back, pulling his robes out of Lucien's grip, "She doesn't love you."

"She could learn."

"She doesn't love you." Martin repeated, Lucien clapped his hands over his ears,

"She… she is so powerful…" Lucien breathed, "She can kill a man within seconds, without making a sound. Ne Quin-al is so quiet, and dark, and beautiful…" Lucien's head became upturned, "I… I _need_ her."

"So do I." Martin said, Lucien's face contorted with anger, "And she chose me, Lachance."

"And I thought _my_ heart was cold…"

"Cold?" Martin asked, "You don't know anything about _cold_." Said Martin, "You are the one that is in danger, not Quinn. You are welcome to stay here and be protected, but I only offer that protection because Quinn cares about you like _family_."

"I didn't come to ask for your help… I came to ask for your… forgiveness." Lucien mumbled, "I'm the one who told the Mythic Dawn your identity, and the identity of the assassin escorting you." Martin's face twisted with fury, he took a step forwards towards Lucien,

"_It was you?_" Martin seethed, Lucien averted his eyes, "You _are_ the one that put her in danger!"

"But, wait!" Lucien said, "When I went to the Mythic Dawn's hideout, I didn't go to tell them of your whereabouts, I went to kill Mankar Camoran!"

"Quinn already slaughtered every one of them." Martin said in a low, and very eerie voice, Lucien felt goosebumps rise on his skin at the hatred in Martin's words.

"I'm working for the good of the Empire –"

"That is _shit_ to me!" Martin cursed, "I can't trust a single word you say! For all I know Mankar Camoran sent you here to kill me now!"

"I would have done it already." Said Lucien, "Please, I'm begging you, don't let Quinn remember me as the evil man who ruined her life!"

"_You __are_ _the evil man who ruined her life!_" Martin roared, "_I'd kill you myself, if only I was allowed!_" The two men heard the doors on either side of the Hall open, a few dozen Blades poured into the room, all with swords drawn and ready to attack Lucien at Martin's order. But Martin didn't, he looked like he wanted to do it himself, but he didn't move, his face was red with anger, his brow furrowed, his lips turned in a disgusted frown. It was disappointment more than anything else, Jauffree noticed as he stood nearby, he'd seen the same look on Uriel's face many, many times.

"I don't blame you, but I'm not lying." Said Lucien, Martin shook his head, and pointed to the door.

"Get out of my sight." He breathed, "Before I have my Blades remove you."

"You're growing into your role, and I… I respect you now." Said Lucien, standing up, "I will go, you couldn't make me stay anyway, but please –"

"Go." Martin shut his eyes, turning his head away from Lucien, his arm still raised and his finger still pointing towards the door, "The only reason I don't have the Blades kill you where you stand, is because Quinn still cares about you."

"…I know." Lucien said, "… I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" Martin seethed, "_Sorry_? You hated me and talked to me like I was dirt under your boot, and now that I'm close to Quinn, now that I can be your tool to get at her, you start treating me with respect? Do you think I'm _stupid, _Lachance?" Martin watched Lucien cower away slightly as Martin took a few steps closer to him, "You are a creature of deceit and homicidal rage, don't think for a second that I buy your 'apology'."

"Your Highness, I mean you no harm or disrespect, I mean only to gain your forgiveness, and Quinn's too."

"So this is to ease your conscience." Said Martin, "You _are_ afraid of dying."

"I mean my apology sincerely, I want Quinn to think better of me!" Lucien snarled, "I'm sorry! God, why… why won't you believe me? I'm sorry! _I'm sorry!_"

"You don't know the meaning of the words." Martin snarled, Lucien pulled his hood up over his head, "I hope you get what you deserve, whether it be good or ill, Lachance."

"I vowed to destroy you." Lucien growled, "I vowed to eat your heart and take Quinn as my own!" The familiar rage came into Lucien's face, "_If you hadn't shown up_ –"

"I'd watch my words, if I were you." Jauffree barked, his hand on his katana, "Sire, shall I cut his head from his shoulders?"

"No, Grandmaster, he's not finished with his tantrum yet." Martin snorted,

"Frustration and fear." Lucien said tiredly, losing his angry gaze, "_Fatigue and desperation_… all I ask is words… words only."

"To ease your mind."

"Just say the words…" Lucien bowed on one knee, then the other, finally falling forwards in a pathetic groveling position, "Just _say_ it."

"You want me to forgive you?"

"_Yes_…" Lucien said, releasing the word like a sigh of relief, "So that if I die Quinn will at least remember me fondly."

"No." said Martin, Lucien lifted his head to stare upwards in shocked anger, "You don't deserve it."

"I… I see…" Lucien didn't move for a time, he slowly got to his feet, his limbs shook.

"A man who took so many lives, and yet you're afraid of death?" Martin shook his head, "You're afraid you won't make it to your place at Sithis' feet, because of what you did to Quinn. You're not even doing this for _her_."

"You are… cold…" Lucien said, looking away from Martin, "But… you are no fool. I knew coming here would have no benefit, I still do not understand why I came."

"I don't either."

"You will be a great Emperor…" said Lucien, "A calculating one, a man who knows his priorities… But if I may ask of you one thing." Lucien looked back at Martin, "Just one thing… Tell her I loved her."

"No." said Martin, "It would hurt her more. Now go."

"… I will…" Lucien bowed respectfully, and slowly, walking away. When he reached the door, he paused, and turned back to Martin. "All hail, Martin Septim!" he said loudly, Martin looked up at him finally, Lucien could see the anger and sadness in his face. They both knew what was going to happen to Lucien, and Lucien began to understand why Martin was reluctant to throw him out, "Long live the Empire!" Lucien backed out, and let the door shut quietly behind him.

* * *

The smell was what alerted her to trouble. Quinn noticed the sweet and pungent smell of blood as she pushing open the door to the little hut, holding her breath as she walked inside.

"Ah!" She recognized Arquen standing nearby, the other Speakers gathered around a figure huddled on the floor, "Silencer! You've arrived just in time!"

"Lady Arquen?" Quinn felt her fingers tremble, "Where's… where's Lucien?" Quinn peered around the High Elf as the still squirming body, "_Lucien!_"

"A fine specimen, is it not?" Arquen sighed, "The blood does seem rather pungent, I believe he was drinking."

"He was." Said a Breton man nearby, Quinn recognized it as Speaker Bellamont, "Otherwise a few of us would be dead." Quinn rushed to the body hanging from the ceiling, catching Lucien's face with her hands,

"Lucien!" she saw his eyes dart to her, the eyelids having been torn away from him, "No!"

"The shape of the slices, the blood dripping down to the floor… it's very… poetic, isn't it, _Kitty_?" Bellamont chuckled, "A just end to the man who murdered Vicente, don't you think?"

"…Bellamont…" Lucien's voice was a very faint whisper in her ear, she blinked,

"What?"

"…Let me… die… Kitty."

"It's to my understanding," said Arquen, "That you are under orders to retrieve a certain artifact for the heir to the throne?"

"Yes…" Quinn said, biting her lip, Lucien simply stared at Quinn,

"…Use my death…" he barely breathed, and his body hung limply by the rafters, the last few drops of blood falling to the floor.

"Is it possible that you come with us to choose a new Listener?" asked Arquen, Quinn looked back at her, her satchel heavy with the heavy book and the rotting head, when she fell to her knees the small leather bag that contained the head tumbled out of the satchel. Quinn didn't notice when Bellamont scooped it up and opened it.

"But, my Lady, I'm only a Silencer." Quinn said, holding back tears of fury. If Lucien hadn't wanted Quinn to hold back, then she would have been throwing the diary that was filled with homicidal nonsense in Arquen's face, screaming, crying, she would have been so _angry_ and she would have _done something_.

"No, you are now Speaker for the Cheydinhal Sanctuary." Said Lady Arquen, Quinn felt her stomach tighten, vomit threatened to come out of her throat, but Quinn held back. Arquen tossed a set of robes to Quinn, who noticed immediately that they were Lucien's by the blood spatter and stains. "Please, we must go quickly."

"What is this?" Bellamont dropped the leather bag, holding the severed woman's head by the thin hair, "This is a head!"

"Yes, Speaker, it is." Said a Dark Elf, "A clean cut, Quinn, was this your doing?"

"No, it was Lucien's." said Quinn, Bellamont let out a yell of protest as the other Imperial Speaker snatched it out of his hands and tossed it into the fireplace.

"We have better things to be doing than admiring a traitor's work. Let us go."

"…Yes." Said Bellamont, "I am anxious to see the Night Mother." Quinn pulled the robes over her head as the others began to walk out in front of her, beginning to understand what Lucien had said, and followed closely to Bellamont, "So, Ne Quin-al, I understand that you are very close to the heir."

"Not really." She said, Bellamont grinned,

"I see." He said, "I was just wondering if, perhaps, you and Lucien were close."

"He wished." Said Quinn, with mock bitterness, making Bellamont grin wider.

"So a beautiful woman like yourself is involved with _no one_?" he asked, Quinn shrugged, "And I've heard rumors that you are a _virgin_ too."

"You've heard correctly." Said Quinn, Arquen glared back at Bellamont, the two other Speakers were shooting him dirty looks too.

"This isn't the time for shallow flirtations!" Arquen snapped, "Hurry, we must hurry to Bravil!"

No stopping. No breaks. No guilt. Quinn felt nothing as they walked, and walked, and walked, Bellamont staying near to Quinn, and Quinn feeling her hate grow inside of her.

These were the people who decided the fate of so many in Tamriel. Shallow, arrogant, insane. There was no real logic, no need for mercy, and they took pride in every kill.

What a horrible mother this Night Mother must be, breeding hate and murderous intent.

Quinn felt no shame in thinking her thoughts loudly, about how she would slice open Bellamont's throat, and drink his blood, his intestines crushed beneath her boots, and the other Speaker's eating his eyes as he still lay dying.

No. Too quick, too painless, too many people died and suffered, she would use her time wisely, and he would scream and bleed the same way Lucien did. Maybe she would hang him upside down and bleed him dry, or cut at him and leave him to be devoured in a den of Vampires. She could rip off his skin, inch by inch, or she could shove rocks under his fingernails and stab his eyes with needles. She could rip off his eyelids and genitals, just like they did to Lucien.

_Lucien…_ Quinn's chain of thoughts halted slightly, but then continued, she would grieve for him later.

Right then, she had Bellmont's death to plan, and nothing would distract her.

* * *

Sorry for taking so long with updating this story, it's still being written.

I've been working on my original fic and my halflife, Firefly, and Fable fics. I'm even starting to work on a Mass Effect fic with my smexyan Zaeed Massani as a focus.

Oh,n and in the next chapter there is sexual content, and madgods.


	21. The Madgod

Martin was worried, Lucia could tell by the way he didn't eat or shave, his exorcises and training becoming his main priority. Martin had stopped eating a few days before the Emperor's death, and he would study and write like a madman, though he did not stay silent. This time around, Martin was quiet, he only spoke to Seek, and even those times were brief. Only Ya Tirrje seemed unmoved by the silence, when he stayed with Martin in the Great Hall, or stood nearby on guard outside during Martin's training, he looked on and seemed content as if he and Martin were having a full and happy conversation. The Gold Cat even seemed fond of the little Kajiit, Torva, and was helping her learn Cyrodiilic to the best of his ability.

One night, while he thumbed through a thick and old volume about Daedras and their weaknesses, meandering down the hallway towards his room, Martin felt a cold breeze strike him, blowing in from the window from his room, though it didn't stir Roliand, Martin walked into his room and shut the window, taking a careful glance around his room. He saw a black figure sitting on his bed, holding something wrapped in a white cloth, the figure itself in thick black robes.

"…Lachance?"

"That's a good guess," Quinn looked up at Martin, smiling slightly, "But no."

"I was worried about you, what kept you away so long?"

"Business with the Black Hand." Said Quinn, Martin knew he must have flinched or something because Quinn's expression changed, "So, somehow you already know what's happened."

"Lucien came to me about a week about looking for 'forgiveness'… He told me about the traitor and how the Black Hand would blame you and kill you if they got to you first, so he left to lead them away from you."

"I see…"

"So… they made you Speaker?"

"They made me Listener." She said, Martin felt his stomach drop, "I brought the Welkynd stone."

"_Listener_, Quinn how did –"

"Please, I don't want to talk about it."

"…Alright." Martin took the stone, unwrapping the cloth around it, "Was it very hard to get this?"

"Not when I had the Black Hand with me." Said Quinn, "I was able to order them to purge the ruins and get the stone for me."

"So there's no threat from the Dark Brotherhood?"

"None."

"I'm just sorry Lucien had to die for it to be that way."

"He didn't." said Quinn, "But… we can't change time."

"Are you alright?"

"Yes, just sad."

"I'm sorry. I offered for him to stay here and be protected, but he didn't want to." Martin tried.

"I am very, very tired, Martin."

"Then you should sleep." Martin said, Quinn shook her head, Martin noticed that her skin didn't have its usual healthy glow, and she had those dark rings around her eyes again.

"I can't. Not until we get the Amulet… what do I have to get next?"

"Actually, we're both going to need rest for that." Said Martin, "We need a Great Sigil Stone." He placed the Welkynd stone on his desk, wrapping it up again.

"What, like from an Oblivion gate?"

"A really _big_ Oblivion gate." Martin leaned back on the bed, yawning, "Like the one that opened at Kvatch."

"Oh."

"They open up outside of Bruma like clockwork, every day. Jauffree mentioned something about Alastor getting troops to defend Cloud Ruler Temple a few weeks back, they'll probably be fighting with us."

"Us?" Quinn blanched, "Us, as in, 'us' in general'? Or 'us' as in, me and you?"

"I'm going this time, yes."

"Martin, _no_, you're not an experienced fighter –"

"I've been training for two weeks straight, your father has put me through the paces enough times so I could defend myself. I've probably got more bruises from him than I will ever get from any Daedra." Martin yawned. "If I get wounded Jauffree and Baurus will drag me back to Cloud Ruler Temple."

"It's never that easy."

"I figured that when you come back with bruises and cuts all over you." Martin said, "I can't just hide up here, it was my idea in the first place, I can't sit up here and pretend like I'm playing chess."

"I know, I just worry."

"I worry about you all the time! At least this time I'll be able to see what you're doing." Martin yawned again, Quinn pulling the black robes off of her body and adjusting her leather armor, the mazken armor now gone from her. Quinn pushed down her hood, laying down on the bed beside Martin, they embraced, and Martin felt Quinn start to cry, her face buried in his shoulder. "I'll be careful, I promise."

"I already managed to get troops…" she sniffled, trying to stop crying, "From… Skingrad…" she wiped her eyes uselessly, more tears spilling from them, "And… B-Bruma… _Oh_…" she made a noise of anger, little and powerful, it didn't make Martin cringe or worry, but smile, "I _hate_ crying!" she sniffled loudly and stuck her face in a pillow. "I feel stupid whenever I do it!" She ended her statement by letting out a few more sobs.

"You're tired, Quinn, you haven't stopped _once_." Martin's fingers stroke her hair absently, pushing some out of her face and tucking the hair behind her ear.

"I couldn't sleep if I wanted to." She said. They were quiet for some time, Quinn's ear pressed against his chest as she began to relax, Martin's heart beating loudly in her ear.

"So…" the word rumbled in his chest, Quinn didn't move her head as he continued, "How did you jump right to being a Listener?"

"…I killed the original one by accident." Said Quinn, "And the Night Mother saw fit to make me Listener."

"Right, you mean that the other Speakers made you Listener."

"No, I mean we went to see the Night Mother and she made me Listener." Quinn heard Martin's heart start to beat a little faster, "Nice lady, really."

"She's real?"

"Yes… so I guess Sithis is real." She said, "Fortunately he thinks that doubt is an appropriate offering too…"

"And what about Lucien?"

"She said he was where he was supposed to be, they're all where they're supposed to be, even Vicente."

"But… they didn't have to die?"

"No."

"…I'm sorry, Quinn." Martin said softly, Quinn lifted her head to look at him, "It's… it's my fault, isn't it?"

"No, Martin. It's not."

"Lucien wouldn't have tortured you like that if it weren't for -"

"Please don't do that." Quinn's fingers touched his lips gently, silencing him, "Don't blame yourself." Martin kissed her deeply, apologetically, her mouth trembling against his, but still feverishly returning his kisses, Quinn felt something inside of her burning. It was a strange sensation, it grew stronger when Martin began kissing her neck, and it was the same sensation as when she and Martin had nearly made love before, only this felt more needy. Martin's hands moved quickly, but gently, undoing the buckles and straps of her armor so it fell from her easily, kissing the skin that was exposed, pulling the leather away from her body. "_Martin…_"

"I really hope no one interrupts us this time…" Martin breathed, he pulled his robes over his head, kicking away any shred of clothing that he and Quinn were wearing. His hands and mouth explored her body, Quinn responding to every tiny move that he made. She felt Martin's hands gently sliding down her legs, the sensation giving her goosebumps, her fingers tangling themselves in his hair as they kissed, Martin shifting his weight slightly so he was on top of her.

Quinn had seen men naked before, several contracts she had completed often depended on her seducing men in order to get them alone, though none of the men ever got what they wanted. One occasion even led to her being groped and fondled before the target finally collapsed and died from the poison he had ingested. Quinn suddenly felt a little overwhelmed by her nakedness, vulnerable and inexperienced, Martin seemed to sense her hesitation, and he paused.

"Quinn? Are you all right?" His pupils were dilated outwardly, his chest heaving slightly, kneeling between her legs and his body responding eagerly to her body in front of him.

"I…I think so." Quinn bit her lip, it's not that she was having second thoughts, because she wasn't, Martin was the one person she felt she could trust with this, and she loved him greatly. "I feel I should tell you…I've never done this before." Martin looked a little surprised.

"…Do you need me to stop?" Martin asked warily, "I will, I can wait until –"

"No! That's not what I want, I'm just a little nervous." Quinn said, Martin seemed slightly relieved, kissing her softly on the mouth, his hands moved slowly and deliberately across her body, resting in certain areas that made Quinn's body twitch, eventually she felt his left hand between her legs, his fingers probed and caressed gently, Quinn twitching and tensing with the alien sensations spreading through her body. She felt something building in her abdomen, and Martin seemed to sense his motions were having some effect on her, he kissed her again, removing his hand, with a simple motion of his body he entered her, Quinn letting out a soft sigh as he pushed through the resistance inside of her. He had to stop for a moment, Quinn pulled him down to kiss him, as their mouths met Martin began thrusting, his body grinding into hers and taking a will of it's own, his mind reeling at the sensations that were long denied to him. Quinn groaned into his mouth, his slow and deep gyrations making her body respond heavily. He inadvertently let out a small moan, his mouth at her ear, her arms wrapped around him, her fingers clutching at his shoulder blades. Quite suddenly Martin felt her fingers clutch at his back, her nails digging into his skin as her body arched beneath him, Quinn's face was relaxed, her eyes closed, she bit her lip so hard to quiet herself, but she moved against him, her hips now pushing back against him.

"_Oh…_" Quinn let out a small sigh, it ended in a gentle squeal that nearly drove Martin over the knew that he wouldn't be able to go for much longer, over ten years of chastity with no time to himself left him with little willpower, and his thrusts grew faster and faster as he neared his climax, Quinn felt Martin's tension, her legs wrapped around his hips, bringing him closer to her, her body responding to his thrusts by bringing her to another climax. At the moment of their release, their eyes met, and their lips pressed together, Martin let out a few muffled moans against Quinn's lips, and Quinn arched beneath him again, her hips bucking against him.

The kiss ended slowly, Martin and Quinn breathing heavily, but their eyes remained locked, Martin's hand rested on her cheek,

"Ne Quin-al… I love you." He whispered, "I want to be with you, I want you to stay with me, and be my Empress." Quinn's eyes locked dreamily on his, "Will you stay with me?"

"Yes."

"Will you marry me?"

"Yes." Said Quinn, "I love you." Martin kissed her deeply again, something strange in it now that wasn't there before, an intensity that made Martin wish he could stay in the room with her like that, and never leave. When he pulled away, Quinn's eyes were closing, she seemed like she would fall asleep right then and there,

"Are you sleeping?"

"No…" Quinn muttered, obviously falling asleep,

"You're falling asleep."

"No I'm nuh…" she blinked tiredly, trying to stay awake as Martin laid on the bed beside her, pulling herself close and embracing him, "Now I go to sleep…" which she did. Martin laid back down, dozing briefly until there was a loud rapping at his door. Quinn started awake, she and Martin pulled a blanket over themselves.

"What is it?" Martin yawned,

"Your Highness, I apologize for waking you at this hour, but there's been a slight… development." Jauffree's voice was low,

"Like what?" Martin asked, pulling his robes on and sliding out of bed, Quinn tried to get up but Martin pushed her back onto the bed, "You stay, go to sleep."

"I want to go with you…" she yawned, Martin placed a kiss on her forehead as Quinn rolled over and went back to sleep.

"Can I come in, sire?" Jauffree asked,

"Uh, well –" Martin yanked the blankets higher on Quinn, Jauffree already opening the door.

"You were already awake, sire?" Jauffree asked, then caught sight of Quinn asleep in bed, and Martin looking like he had his hand in the cookie jar. "Oh, getting to work on making a new heir, are we?"

"Please Jauffree, come in, don't wait for my invitation." Martin said grumpily.

"My apologies, sire." Jauffree nodded politely.

"What's the matter?"

"The Mazken and the Aureal are… fighting." Said Jauffree, "Apparently the herald of Lord Sheogorath wishes to speak with you, and the only way he can do that is if one of the Daedra sacrifices herself as a portal."

"I see…" Martin rubbed his eyes,

"If you don't mind hurrying, sir, they're making a mess of the Great Hall."

* * *

Naga was apparently the winner, seeing as there was red Aureal blood coating the floor, Lucia was already scrubbing the floor, scowling with effort as Naga kneeled by the fire. Ya' Tirrje was carrying out a bucket of clean water to help Lucia,

"Oh god…" Martin nearly tripped on a pile of Daiji's innards, the rest of Daiji somewhere else in the room, "Naga, what did you do?"

"She gutted the little golden bitch, that's what she did!" Lucia snapped, still scrubbing at the floor with a wet cloth, "I'll have to get Seek to magic this stuff off the floor, since it's daedric it's burning my hands."

"What started the fight, Naga?" Martin asked, walking closer, Daiji had apparently gotten a good hit into Naga, purple blood was pooling up around her knees at a steady rate. Her blade was still drawn, and she held it on her lap with a blank expression.

"Sheogorath's order to open a portal for Chamberlain Haskill."

"You didn't have to kill her."

"That is true."

"But you really wanted to, didn't you?" Lucia said, Naga nodded. "Yeah… she wasn't a friendly one, that Aureal."

"When is Haskill coming?" asked Martin,

"Soon, since the Aureal landed a blow, I must open the portal before I bleed out from her wound. I must die by my own hand."

"But you'll be reborn in the Shivering Isles, right?"

"That is right."

"Oh, _great!_" Lucia pointed at the blood beneath Naga throwing down the washrag, "Now _purple!_ This is getting _stupid_! I not going to have to clear up your guts too, am I?" Naga shook her head, she dragged her finger through her blood to make a circle around herself,

"I will make it a clean death." Naga said, she lifted her blade, placing the tip at her chest, and shoved it into her body, Martin could hear the ribs crack and snap as the blade pierced her body, it only took a moment for her body to lurch forwards and fall with a wet 'thud' to the ground. After a moment, her body seemed to catch fire with a green and blue flame, and suddenly disappeared. After a minute or two Martin glanced around, everyone confused and almost embarrassed,

"That was stupid." Lucia said, "At least her body disappeared, though now we've got a ruddy ugly burn mark on the floor."

"Leave it Sheogorath to be completely _random_." Jauffree shook his head, "Probably thought the fight was funny." Ya' Tirrje walked closer, standing near Martin and in the pool of blood,

"He thinks death like this is funny?"

"Guts would amuse him." Martin shook his head, still facing the fire, he felt Naga's blood soak into his shoe, and as he turned around to go back to his room and kick the soggy thing off, he felt his body collide with a solid object. As he recoiled he saw what it was, and fell back against Ya' Tirrje and into the pool of blood.

"Oh dear, someone has spilled Daiji all over the floor." It stood about three inches taller than Martin, had gray hair, and leaned against a wooden cane. His purple and gold robes were oddly made and held no consistency, the swirling pattern made Jauffree dizzy when the person wearing it moved too fast.

"Are you the Chamberlain?" asked Jauffree, Lucia stood up, her clothes stained with the Aureal's blood.

"A chambermaid?" it asked, screwing up its face in thought, stroking its beard, "I suppose I _could_ be one, but there's always so _much_ to clean… I think I'd get fired from that job. Though I'd be great at being a chamber pot."

"_Chamberlain,_ are you the Chamberlain? Are you Haskill?" Lucia asked,

"Y'know, you remind me of that little Breton… what's her name…" he pointed at Lucia, waggling his finger oddly, "Gah… her name escapes me at the moment, sweet little thing… followed orders really well and was a good friend of mine…" he looked over at Jauffree, "Oh… Ne Quin-al! That's her name!" He pointed to Jauffree, "Fetch her for me, would you? Got a mind to spank her for not coming back to work on time."

"Look, you," Lucia said, "We ain't gettin' no one until you say who you are."

"Do I have to? Really?"

"He's not the Chamberlain." Martin said, swallowing hard,

"Who is he, then?" Asked Lucia,

"He's Sheogorath." Martin felt everyone's surprise and fear, Lucia immediately backed a few steps away from him,

"Ah, the good little scholar remembers me!" Sheogorath jabbed his thumb at Martin, then looped his arm around his shoulders and pulled him into a hug, "Good friend, me and him, got in all _sorts_ of trouble together." Martin didn't move, he stood rigid in the Deadric Lord's grip, "I am bambuzzled, you see, I mess with this little man awhile back, and now I see why I was drawn to him in the first place! You're a Septim! Ain't that rich? I wondered why you reminded me of Pelagius… Must be the tongue, you waggle it the same way when you talk."

"Is there something you require?" asked Ya' Tirrje, Sheogorath glanced over at him briefly,

"And you! The Gold Cat!" He cackled, "Oh, so much history in this room! How's your mum?" Ya' Tirrje gained a scowl to his face, his lip lifted and exposing his large teeth, "She still looney? Oh wait, that's right, she disappeared!"

"What do you know of that?"

"She got so looney she wandered off, didn't she? I know, because she works for me in the Shivering Isles! Wasn't her lunacy the 'curse' you brought to her?"

"Why Quinn?" Asked Martin, Sheogorath suddenly started giving him a brutal noogie, until his scalp burned.

"I told ya, she works for me! I'm here to give her the good news!"

"And what's that?"

"I'm pregnant!" he cackled, "Her baby too!"

"Oh, shut up…" Martin shook his head,

"No, no, I got that backwards… Anywho, I'll poop out when I speak to Quinn, and you can get on with your useless little war… by the way, Dagon says hello."

"She's sleeping now."

"I own her, so it doesn't matter."

"Own?" Ya Tirrje took a few steps closer, "How is it that you own my daughter?"

"Just because?" Sheogorath shrugged, "I felt like it, she offered, she's been successful in runnin' my errands. Because. Not so different from yourself there, Martin."

"I don't claim to own her." Said Martin,

"But you do, don't you?" asked Sheogorath, "She's even gone so far as ignoring _me_, we daedric lords don't take so kindly to that kind of thing." Sheogorath let go of Martin, shoving him slightly so he stood in the pool of Naga's blood, "She also gave you the Hellawes, which was meant only for _her_… do you know why?"

"No."

"The Hellawes is a stone that come from the Shivering Isles, though only from Jyggalag, it is an ancient and powerfully charged shard of order. It's almost like a rare gem, it shines, it's worth thousands, but it also makes a great Welkynd stone look like a toy… they taste like licorice and belly button lint too, you should try it."

"Could we use it to open the portal to Paradise?"

"Going off topic? How rude… and no. The power of a Hellawes is dormant, it just pops out when it feels like it."

"Why is this important?"

"Because when it decides to pop out, Ne Quin-al will be in for quite a surprise." Sheogorath grinned, "Though even I do not know what that surprise may be… still, it should make things interesting, right?" he scratched his head, "But… I'm becoming oddly coherent, so I think this is where I say _adieu_, and bid all you pretty little blood sacks goodnight."

"But don't you need to talk to Quinn?" Lucia asked,

"I have been!" he said, "And she's been very compliant these days, let me tell you… says that when she's done here she'll be back in the Shivering Isles. So, I got what I wanted, and now you'll get yours." Sheogorath took a few steps back, and bowed deeply his form fading as he moved, until he was only a voice. "Good night, don't let the dremora bite."

* * *

I say ABOUT FRIGGIN' TIME those two did the hanky panky. And now its official that they're taking steps that she'd be the empress.

Jauffree is like the annoying sibling that walks in on you and makes a weird comment. It just ruins the afterglow.

Check out some of my other fics, and review! REVIEW REVIEW! It makes me happy. I write more when I'm happy.


	22. The Speaker's Wraith

about time, jeeze i've been busy!

_enjoy!_

_

* * *

_

_Martin shuddered as sleep came to him, his mind sluggish and sated. Though when he was greeted by the familiar marble throne room of his dreams, a new anxiety crept forwards. The blood red veins that had appeared had not faded, but intensified, the white marble darkening to a deep black. The throne before him held a figure, leaning back against the red fabric and leaning its head on its right arm. The black leather gloves rubbing against its pale white face, the black robes flowed over his body like a black mist, the violence and loathing in his eyes burning bright. Martin swallowed hard, and stepped forwards absently, in disbelief. His dreams usually brought him complacent mumbling from far away minds, inarticulate fantasies that often ended without resolution, either that or Uriel's mysterious words whispered in his ears._

_"Well, __well__, Septim. Here we are." Lucien Lachance didn't stand, "Pardon me if I don't bow, your Highness." The anger, the psychosis, the murder, they were gone from his face. Now there was a fierce joy, a humor that Martin hadn't seen before, and it terrified him._

_"What're you doing here?"_

_"Oh, what else?" he smirked, "Helping you win your little war." Martin raised an eyebrow, "Take a guess, boy. How is the mage going to use me in battle?" Humor, laughter, __pure joy__, Martin was taken aback at seeing these things in Lucien's face._

_"What're you talking about?" Martin asked, "You're dead, I can't –"_

_"Oh come now, Dragonborn, you're not as big a fool as that." Lucien leaned forwards, placing his elbows on his knees. "Don't tell me you've never done a summoning." Martin was taken slightly aback,_

_"Necromancy? I'm supposed to be the Emperor, I can't summon the dead in front of my troops." It was bad enough Martin had considered summoning Daedra in the battle, but the soul of a violent assassin? It didn't seem like a good idea._

_"Of course you can." Lucien looked bored now, "You're the Emperor, you can do what you want, especially on the battlefield." The Speaker stood, "I have been sent by Sithis himself, I would not go against the wishes of my Dark Father." Martin snorted, crossing his arms._

_"Your only goal seems to be separating Quinn and I."_

_"If you don't believe me," Lucien pointed to Martin's left, "Ask __him__." Martin glanced to his right, letting out a yelp of surprise as he spotted Uriel beside him, Lucien let out a low chuckle. "Your Majesty." The Speaker bowed, dipping his head towards Urie.,_

_"…My son." Uriel's voice was faint, Martin squinted at his father, whose form seemed to flicker and fade like a candle's flame. "It is time Martin."_

_"For what? I only just realized who I am to you, and now you seem more distant." The heir seemed less apprehensive now, and Uriel smiled softly._

_"The impossible." Uriel said, his voice faded slowly, "My time of passing is at hand, and what Speaker Lachance says is true, you need his help."_

_"But summoning the dead?"_

_"The willing dead." Lucien reminded loudly, " This is no crime." Uriel shook his head,_

_"But know, that with his aid come the help of others." Uriel touched his own chest, Lucien himself stepped closer, "Before battle, waste little time with words, and summon forth the help he offers."_

_"And what of you?" Martin asked, "I finally accepted who you were to me, Lucia told me the truth and now the only thing you can say is 'goodbye'?" Lucien's hand touched Martin's arm, and then… the Speaker faded, disappearing from sight. "Where did -"_

_"Back to Sithis." Uriel's face suddenly fell, "…You have gained the Dread Lord's… attention."_

_"You leave this to me? Fighting black gods and armies? Alone?"_

_"I am afraid so." Uriel said, Martin frowned deeply as he flickered again, "I do not have a choice in the matter." His hands reached outwards, placing themselves on his son's shoulders, "But know… my brilliant and brave boy… my __son__," Uriel squeezed him tightly, pulling him close into an embrace, "I have always loved you. And I have and always will be proud of what you have done."_

The dream faded, and so did the warm embrace of his father, Uriel Septim. Martin found himself back in his bed, his arm curled around the little assassin, and he felt his eyes burn. For the first time in years, Martin felt a longing in him, a sadness and despair, he placed a hand over his mouth to stifle the low sob of agony, but Quinn stirred beside him.

"Martin?" her face rested beside his, and as her eyes opened, her hand rested on his cheek, her thumb landing in the thick tears beneath his eye. "What's wrong? What happened?" Martin said nothing, only pulled her close and held her, his face buried in her neck. Her right hand landed on the back of his neck, her left on his back, and the fingers in his hair gently massaged the skin, soothing the man as he held back tears.

"I saw him." He said, Quinn didn't need and explanation,

"What did he say?"

"…He loved me… he was proud of me… I thought I was done mourning for my father after Balin died… I never thought I'd have to do it again." Martin said quietly, "I miss him." He squeezed her tighter. "So _much_. I miss them _all_ so much, Erin, Balin… now Uriel…"

Quinn fell asleep in his arms, the air was warm and quiet, the soft murmur of speaking Blades was lulling, the blankets were soft and cool.

But Martin didn't sleep.

* * *

Martin didn't consider himself a coward.

His mouth was dry, with a strange sour taste on his tongue, his view slightly obstructed by the armor on his head. He tried to swallow the spittle forming in his mouth, but the muscles in his throat refused to work.

It was bitterly cold on the winter slopes outside of Bruma, his heart pounded in his chest, he felt himself breathing hard, the Dragonscale armor pressing into his chest. They Blades had offered to whisk him away once the battle started, but he refused, they'd offered him a horse to give him a better advantage over the other foot soldiers, and he'd turned it away. He wanted to be at the same level as the other men, to be able to look them in the eye, and learn their names and where they came from, to tell them with his own mouth why they were fighting on the slopes of Bruma. His public speaking had improved, the tension that hovered over the troops had all but vanished, Quinn, Arboghast, Alastor, and rest of the Black Hand had arrived, even several Mages were warming their hands with heating charms. Everyone's hopes seemed high, and while they were nervous they didn't seem as terrified as they did moments before.

Martin knew he should feel proud of inspiring these men and women, he knew that he was doing the right thing in uniting factions of soldiers and assassins, but at that moment he could only feel one thing.

Terror. Complete terror. Not only for himself, but for the woman that stood next to him, for the two brothers that stood behind him, and for every single person that stood on that field with him. He finally managed to swallow the lump in his throat as the pungent smell of burning sulfur reached his nose, and he inhaled deeply, letting it fill his senses. Memories flooded his mind, burning bodies, dying men and women, Katharine, Ra'Vira… and Clavicus. Even at a strange time like this, when the great clawed and burning gates rose from the snow, his thoughts didn't dwell on the task at hand, but on his mother, and his father. Erin and Balin… what would they say about him now? And what of Uriel? What was the aid he promised?

Martin's gut clenched as the third, and final gate spawned from the cold stone, though it wasn't fear, and involuntarily his hands clenched on the hilt of his longsword, Jauffree and Baurus looked to him.

"Orders to relay, sire?" Jauffree's voice was calm, Martin took a quick glance around the field,

"…Keep close to the gates, when the Great gate opens clear the way for Quinn. After she is inside fall back and encircle the Daedra."

"Baurus, relay the orders to the guard Captains. Let's keep this quick and tight, we don't have a lot of time to play with."

"What about you, sire?" Baurus asked,

"Get the Sigil Stone to Cloud Ruler Temple, that is your main concern." Martin said,

"Martin, you know we can't ignore the danger to you." Jauffree said, he turned to the two brothers, "Alastor, Arboghast, it is vital that you stay with his Highness." Arbo nodded, Alastor looked to Quinn as she spoke.

"Black Hand." She called, Martin wasn't used to hearing the authority in her voice, "Protect the Emperor."

"As you wish, my Lady." Several dark figures suddenly circled around Martin, all they had been to him were shuddering shadows in the crowd. Martin motioned to Jauffree,

"On my signal." Martin felt something in his gut burning, his fists clenched as magicka suddenly pulsed within them. It was hot, and powerful, throbbing and squirming in his body, a burning and red magicka that he had never seen or felt before. Martin felt his arms move, "Signal the charge." He ordered, Jauffree drew his Dai Katana, raising it into the air. Martin felt the soldiers rush by, but he did not move, the hot power charging into his body, into every pore,

"Martin?" Quinn was still beside him, but he didn't look at her, and his arms were pulled to his chest, shaking with effort.

_I have always been proud of what you have done._

Martin's arms spread, soldier and men rushing by paused, as a great wind rushed onto the field, not from the hell gates but from the Emperor himself, his body glowing brightly amidst the men and women beside him. All eyes were on Martin as he drew his sword. The fray began, swarms of daedroth and dremora poured from the gates, the vast numbers far greater than Martin had ever imagined, but fear did not reach him. Suddenly, Martin felt something in his body work its way out of him, up his chest, and out of his mouth. A great roar, like a shockwave of energy, burst forth from Martin, a swirling of energy gathered around his body. THe Daedra seemed suddenly stunned, falling back in confusion.

It was like a great wave, air rushed onto the field gathering before Martin, forming and shaping into two new figures, one clad in black, the other in white armor. Martin's head spun momentarily, he had expected Lucien Lachance, but not the apparition beside him. Jauffree would have fallen to his knees had there not been daedra attacking from all sides, the black figure did not hesitate to rush into the fray, Lucien's clear apparition like a black fog swarming the field, the Dragonscale armor a pearly white on the taller and more bright wraith.

Martin was eye to eye with his own father's armor clad form, Uriel Septim VII had taken up sword in his death to aid him.

"Okay. See, that's just _cool!_" Alastor cackled, his dagger came up in an arc, severing the spin of a dremora, "You have to teach me that one, Priest!" Martin felt his insides burn as Uriel smiled, and beckoned him forwards, towards the fray. Towards Quinn. Towards Alastor and Arboghast. Towards the Black Hand, and the Blades. Martin Septim took a deep breath.

And charged forwards with the soldiers of Tamriel.

* * *

"Master Camoran."

The room glinted with the light of the welkynd stones embedded in the walls, the gray stone of the walls was cool to the touch as Mankar glided his fingers over it.

"Yes." He did not turn. It was a simple update, no more, though he already knew.

"The battle on the slopes of Bruma has begun."

"I know." The Amulet of Kings weighed heavily around his neck, he touched it briefly, feeling the magicka surge into his fingertips. "I believe his Majesty's Champion will arrive shortly."

"You do not expect victory on the field?" the small wood elf man asked, Mankar said nothing, and did not move, his eyes fixed upon the glowing crystals, "My Lord, I thought it was your wish to destroy Bruma, and the heir with it?"

"Why risk such a bold move without reason?" Mankar turned to the cultist, "She has slain my children, and even though they now rest in Paradise with me she is still chasing us. Such determination has altered my plans."

"In what way?"

"It has shown me something I did not expect…" he held the amulet in his left hand, "That, perhaps, given the chance… the Children of Nirn are not as undeserving as once I thought." He lifted the amulet, gazing into the red stone with a newfound interest, "Though I am not the one to decide such things."

"But Lord Dagon expects -"

"Lord Dagon wants his realm returned, and rightfully so, but that is not up to me, child." The seat beside Mankar was cold as he sat in it, "It is between Dagon and the new heir."

"The heir will fall." The cultist said, "He is a weak puppet of the temple, a priest and a bastard! His own father did not claim him -"

"Bastards are powerful enemies." Mankar's tone sharpened, "They often hold the secrets that could fell nations, the power behind them not stemming form royal upbringing, but from the need to survive." The Altmer glared down upon the Bosmer, "Usurpers rise and fall, often by hand they have bitten many times before. This man is not one of them, not a pretender of the Temple, and not a weakling... we share the same sense of loss, he and I... the same questions."

"You speak as if you have met him, my Lord." The Bosmer tipped his head, "Have you?"

"Not that he or I could recall. But I have _felt_ him… The anger and power resonating from a source that he himself cannot fathom…" Mankar closed his eyes, "Like an icy fist clutching your heart, a trembling breath chilling your very soul… Had he chosen to aide me our victory would have been absolute, but since he has chosen to stand against us, but now…" he gripped his chin with his thumb and forefinger gently, leaning his arm against the arm of the chair, "With the death of his father and the action against his love, he will not be dissuaded. He thinks of the future, not of the Empire, but of Tamriel, as a student of history he knows that Empires rise and fall, leaving something great in their wake."

"And he will not be felled?"

"Not by me. Nor any man I send to him." Mankar said softly, "But perhaps by Dagon himself."

"A mere man against the might of the Daedra? He will fall."

"Really?" Mankar tipped his head, "Are you so certain, my child?"

"Well..." the Bosmer shifted nervously, "If you are unsure, why risk losing Bruma to him?"

"It is a vital place… but their heart is open and exposed to us…" The High Elf leaned back, folding his hands in his lap, "All that is required now... is patience."

* * *

There was no heartfelt 'Good luck and goodbye.' Quinn looked at this mission as just another job. One that decided the fate of the realm, of course, but how was this different than any other day? With the Black Hand behind him, and those strange ghosts that had arrived, Quinn knew Martin would be safe. Arboghast had managed to climb into the giant hell gate with her, against her wishes. He'd slipped in beside her, he scorched his backside on the way in, but after landing squarely on his behind in the dirt of Oblivion, he dusted himself off and followed Quinn as she raced through he burning world.

"Honestly, you could die here!" Quinn scolded as she ran, they could hear the rumbling of the great Siege Engine outside, its nose beginning to poke through the gate.

"And I'm supposed to stay on the mountain while you run through hell? Martin would kill me, no way." Arbo climbed the ramp with Quinn, approaching the Great Sigil Stone cautiously.

"What was with the screaming business earlier?"

"Oh, just a little something the Septim line got from the Nedics."

"What?"

"They don't call them the 'Dragonborn' for no reason, Quinny. They are descended from the Ancient Nedics too. It's just a talent that's been… lost, at least 'til Uriel got frisky with a half Nord." Arbo grabbed the stone in his large arms, "When we go back, I am _not_ carrying the heavy thing up that mountain."

"You'll do what you're told."

"_Ooooh_, cranky." He snorted, "Hurry!" Quinn helped him heave the Great stone out of the pillar of fire, and ducked back with him as the world dissipated in bright red flames. Arboghast heaved the stone forwards, concussing and crushing a fire daedra nearby, "This thing _is_ handy!"

"Not exactly its intended purpose… " Quinn managed to pick off the stragglers with her bow, Martin and Alastor doing the same nearby, Martin's helmet having been knocked off at some point during the fight, Alastor's chin dribbling with blood. The two great forms of Uriel and Lucien had vanished, though the inspiring effect of a fallen Emperor on the battlefield had done it's work. "Martin!" She leapt over a Spider Daedra's corpse, when Martin's eyes locked on her his face split into a smile,

"Quinn! You're alright!" he hurried to her, his arm wrapped around her waist, his lips found hers as he dropped his sword, "We did it!" he said, as his lips left hers, "Look!" he motioned out to the battlefield, Jauffree and several other Blades, including the majority of soldiers, Arboghast picked up the Great Sigil stone, "And you got it!"

"Yeah we did!" Arboghast said, "On that note, your Kingly Awesomeness, oh Martin of Martins…" Arboghast dropped the stone again, "This son of bitch is heavy. Please don't make me carry it…" He straightened up, "So what now?"

"I use that and the Welkynd stone, and someone heads into Camoran's Paradise…" Martin frowned, "To get the amulet back." Jauffree and Baurus approached slowly, wheezing and panting as they got their breaths back.

"So Quinn pops in for a visit to the High Elf twit to get back your jewelry? You make it sound so easy, Priest."

* * *

It's not as long as I liked, but it I DO like it.

More soon. Some of my time has been freed up.


	23. The Blood of Akatosh

"It ends here, Mankar."

Mankar Camoran sighed deeply, touching the amulet around his neck gently,

"No… I'm sorry to say that you are mistaken." He stood from his seat, motioning to small half breed woman in Mazken armor, brandishing an ebony blade at him, "You must realize that Dagon's rule does not end with me."

"I do." Quinn's gaze was hard, "But it's a start. You killed my friends, the family who took me in when my father could not, and tried to hurt the man I care for." She took a few steps forwards, her left hand free to drag the bloody body of Raven Camoran after her, "I followed you here to your paradise, and I'll follow you to the Sanguine Pits if I have to, but you _will_ be stopped!"

"For what purpose? Come now, Ne Quin-al, surely an assassin of your prowess must understand the triviality of –"

"Don't pretend to be above the fear of death, Camoran." Quinn tossed the large body in front of her, "And don't appeal to my intelligence either, I will not be manipulated!"

"Not manipulated?" Mankar chuckled, "I led you here, didn't I?" Quinn shrugged,

"For different purposes."

"Oh? Really? Are you so certain?" Mankar's arms lifted, his hands suddenly burning hot with flaming mana, "To lift and expose the bastard heir? To darken the dragonfires long enough, and to unite the people under a champion who will _fail_ her Empire? If that is your purpose, then –"

"_Enough!_" Quinn spat, "Enough talk! Enough of your games! I will crush your intestines beneath my feet and offer your blood to Sithis!" Quinn glanced down at her gloved hand, hot blood coating it, and she gently smeared it upon her face, "I won't hide from my Lord, I will give him what he wants." Quinn jabbed her shortsword towards Camoran, "And what he want, Usurper, is _you_…" Quinn closed her eyes, " 'I give unto you the maker of blood, the murderer of those who are not yet meant for Darkness, the slayer of children and man alike, conjurer of falsehoods and ignorance. Accept the feeble soul who would dare raise a Daedra to smite your loyal and loving family, and who would _dare_ take your place… But most of all…'" Quinn placed one foot in front of the other, the hollow noise of her footfalls bouncing off the walls. " 'Condemn to an eternity, the pitiful slave of Dagon, who would dare murder the upholder of the Sacred Pact! Protect always the Dragon Born, Martin Septim and his heirs! I give unto thee this blood, Dread Lord! And my eternal malice!'"

Mankar moved faster than Quinn had expected, far more agile than a man his age usually was, and she fell back spinning around and arching her blade upwards towards his blade. A purple haze rose in his hands, the sword bouncing off of it uselessly as it struck,

"That incantation…" Mankar snorted, "Was the incantation of the Night Mother, given to the Listener of the Black Hand." Quinn did not answer, only waved her hand, a purple and smokey portal of summoning appearing before them, and a Lich of great size appearing, which itself summoned several skeletons.

"I am the Listener of the Black Hand." She stated, "I am the Head of the Fighters Guild, and I am the Arch Mage and slayer of the King of Worms. And I am," she bared her teeth, rushing forwards, "The future Empress of Tamriel! I will serve my people without hesitation, and I will start by _killing __**you**__!_"

"Do this, and you risk the life that grows withi-"

Quinn halted suddenly, her eyes widening as he charged forwards, darting away from the frost spell flung in her direction, Quinn quickly dived upon him, pinning him to the ground,

"I risk _nothing_." Mankar Camoran felt the blade work its way through flesh and bone, his right shoulder burning and ripping as she hacked brutally at the joint, then again as she attacked the left. His mind whited out all other things except for the pain, his jaw hung slack as she kicked the dead appendages away, her heel grinding into the splintered bone still attached to his body. Gasping for air, Mankar Camoran struggled to sit up, but Ne Quin-al already straddled his ankles, stabbing at his kneecaps with her lip lifted to expose her sharp teeth. Screams of pain echoed through the room, his mind scrambled for an incantation to heal the wounds, to grow limbs, to push her back with words alone, but his memory failed him. At last, Quinn stopped, he felt her fingers at his throat, curling around the golden cord of the Amulet of Kings before yanking it off of his neck and dangling it above his pale face. "You die here, coward. You die in the tower you reigned from." Quinn raised her blade again,

"He will leave you…" Mankar Camoran spat, "And you will never see him again. The Aedra who blessed you with him will take him away!" Quinn struck downward, the blow landing upon the exposed flesh of Camoran's neck, halting only when it reached his spinal cord. With an extra push, and a loud 'crunch', Camoran's wet sputtering ceased, and the thin head rolled off of his shoulders. Ne Quin-al stood in the pool of blood, the Amulet of Kings pressed tightly to her chest as the word began to crumble and dissolve around her, hot blood dripping down her body as Cloud Ruler Temple came back into focus.

It was silent for a moment, the nervous shout of Jauffree halted as Martin ran forwards towards her.

"Quinn!" He paid no mind to the blood on her body despite his new and expensive royal robes, only to her face and the relieved expression she wore. "You're alright?"

"He barely touched me…" she said, a slow laugh worked its way out of her throat as she held out her hand. Martin was puzzled as the bloody object was pressed into his palm, the confusion quickly turned to surprise as he recognized the Amulet of Kings, "I… I did it…" she said, Martin held her close as she fell forwards, leaning into him, "_We_ did it!"

"You have it!" Jauffree cheered, "She did it! Quinn did it!" The Grandmaster turned on his heel, his tone immediately darkening, "Blades! Mobilize to escort the Emperor to White Gold Tower! We leave at dawn!"

Martin still hadn't moved by the time Jauffree had left, and the last Blade had filed out, still staring at the jewelry in his palm. Quinn said nothing, still holding on to him tightly as he looked on,

"This… this is it…" Martin swallowed hard, "Damn…"

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"All this time, all this work… what if I'm not him? What if I'm some git who has weird dreams and coincidentally looks like Uriel Septim?"

"Just put it on, goof." She pinched his side gently,

"Ow! Fine, fine…" Martin gently lifted the cords together at the back of his neck, he felt the clasps leap towards each other eagerly, locking tightly behind his head. He withdrew his hands, the Amulet heavy around his neck as he stood straight. Quinn didn't move, her thin hand touching it gently as Martin let out a low steady breath. "It's me."

"I know."

"It really is _me_." Martin said shakily, "I'm… I'm the last Septim." Quinn's face tucked into his neck, nuzzling him gently, "And I can light the Dragonfires, I can stop Dagon…" His eyes widened, "We have to go."

"So soon? But Martin, I have news for you -"

"I'm sorry, Quinn… I don't want the worst to happen…" he said, he hadn't heard her as he pulled away, "Come on, let's go."

Quinn watched Martin stride away, the relief gone from his face and now replaced by a burning intensity she hadn't seen in him before. Quinn bit her lip hard before hurrying out after him, hoping for a quiet trip to the Imperial City.

"So? Did you tell him?" Arboghast's voice halted her as she pushed the entrance hall doors open. Martin was too far ahead to hear him.

"He's in such a rush, he didn't hear me."

"Sithis' nutsack… This whole business has me nervous, Kitty."

"You'll do fine while I'm… erm… otherwise occupied."

"Not about that." Arboghast had returned to his usual Black robes, but had pulled his hood back, exposing his bright blonde hair, "I just…" He paused a moment as several Blades rushed past them into the Temple, "I have a bad feeling about _all_ of this."

"We don't have a choice but to continue."

"Right, I know… but you've done your part." Arboghast leaned away form the wall taking her bloody hand in his, "Run. Get away from this. Especially now that you know-"

"I'm not leaving Martin, Arboghast." Quinn said firmly. Arbo squeezed her hand gently, nodding slowly.

"He's a big boy, Kitty, he can take care of himself. You don't need to hold his hand anymore."

"I'm sorry, Arbo, but I'm not running."

"I figured as much…" He released her hand, "I'll get Alastor up, we'll go with you to the city."

* * *

Martin's breathing was heavy, wheezing, as he ran through the streets of the Imperial City. He'd expected assassins, maybe even Citizens not entirely happy with a Bastard heir. But he hadn't expected Arboghast to be right, that it wasn't that simple, that things weren't getting better, but becoming more complicated. He damned the Speaker's intuitive nature, because now it was scaring him to death. The towering form stretched itself over buildings, swiping out with a clawed hand at the Legion soldiers stabbing at its heels. A red and dripping smear upon the cobblestone street was all that was left of the soldiers, and Martin halted his fast pace as the figure suddenly, and eerily, glanced downwards.

It was him. The hulking beast from Oblivion that had torn his kingdom apart, left him to pick up the pieces. Martin was being stared down by Mehrunes Dagon, and in that instant he regretted not ordering Quinn away, not stopping to think for a moment before rushing to the City on his own, dragging his small entourage behind him.

"Martin!" Quinn yanked the door open, inside the Temple of the One was pitch black, "In here!" Martin himself unwilling to go inside, but he did anyway, quickly followed by Jauffree and Arboghast, Alastor pausing at the doorway,

"Holy hell! Lookit the size of him!" he scoffed,

"Alastor!" Arboghast barked, "Get inside!"

"But he's huge! How big do you think his swingin' cod is?"

"This isn't the time for jokes!" Jauffree ordered, "Inside! _Now!_"

"Right…" Alastor shifted his weight to step inside, his left foot placed on the cool floor of the Temple, when his motions suddenly halted. He blinked slowly for a moment, his body jerking violently in the doorway.

"Alastor? What are you doing?" Jauffree snapped, "Get inside! We can't have you dying, boy!" Alastor's body jerked again, and the group recoiled as the tip of a dremora blade suddenly protruded from his chest, a splattering of blood slapping to the floor. "By the Nine…"

"_**Alastor!**_" Arboghast's scream seemed to physically wound Quinn, and as Alastor's big brother charged forwards, Alastor's head drooped, his thin hands dropping the elven blade he held. Jauffree got to the dremora first, his daikatana severing the arms holding Alastor upright. The Silencer crumpled into a heap on the floor, Arboghast falling to his knees beside him. Alastor was quiet, too quiet, his pale blue eyes stared blankly at the ceiling, "…Brother?" Arboghast hesitated, his hands hovering gently over the wound in his chest, "A-Alastor?" he took a hold of his face, "Don't… don't do this… don't joke around…"

"Arboghast…" Quinn kneeled beside him as he lifted Alastor from the cold ground, "Arbo he's -"

"No! No I won't believe that!" he snapped, "Alastor, wake up! Don't you fuck with me now! I've seen you live through worse!" He gripped the blade of the sword shoving it backwards so it clattered to the floor behind Alastor, "Preist!" Arboghast turned to Martin, who was hovering close by, his face in his hands, "Don't mope! Heal him!"

"I can't." he said, Arbo let out a loud snarl,

"What do you mean you _can't_? You can kill a Deadric God, but you can't heal -"

"I can't do that either." Martin said, Arboghast swallowed hard, looking back at Alastor's still features, "I can't heal the dead, and I can't kill Mehrunes Dagon…" he leaned back against the wall, "It's over."

"It can't be over." Jauffree said, "Light the Dragonfires, Martin!"

"It is over, Jauffree." Martin said ruefully, an anger burned in Martin's eyes, "If I light the Dragonfires now, it won't make a difference. It'll simply trap him here until he kills me…" A great rumbling shook them, the ceiling cracking as it was struck from the outside, "…Which is far sooner than I'd planned." He felt Quinn take a hold of his hand, squeezing gently.

"All this work…" Arboghast mumbled, setting Alastor's limp body on the ground, "All this time helping you… and you give up?"

"Give up?" Martin asked, "I could have given in at Kvatch and I didn't!"

"Only because Quinn saved your pathetic ass!" Arboghast stood, "I thought this was the end!"

"Arboghast, this isn't his fault!" Quinn shot, Arbo frowned deeply,

"…I know…" he shook his head, "…What do we do, Martin? We came all this way, you must have some idea -"

"This isn't the way it was supposed to be!" Martin growled, "I left immediately to stop this from happening! But this is what was planned all along! To string us along and draw me out! To kill me and ensure that Oblivion swallows Tamriel up whole! I can't contend with the will of a God, and I don't have the power of one to stop it either! I tried to…" Martin halted his words, dust and rubble fell from the ceiling as Dagon slammed his fists into it again. "That's it."

"What?" Arboghast perked, "You have an idea? What is it?" he flinched as the ceiling gave partially, blocking the door with rubble and making Jauffree dart away. Martin gently touched at the Amulet around his neck, and he felt heat invade his chest as it glowed,

"The Amulet… it holds the blood of the divine." He swallowed hard, "The Blood of Akatosh. I… I know what to do." He glanced around at them, "All I ask is that none of you try to stop me." Arbo furrowed his brow,

"Why? We can't let you do it if it's too dangerous." He said, Martin shook his head,

"Please, Martin." Quinn stood in front of him now, "Please don't do anything rash!"

"Quinn…" Martin's hand gently grazed his hand over her face, his thumb brushing against her cheek, "I have to."

"No! You can't!" Jauffree breathed, "Uriel fought to keep you alive!"

"Then I'll have to explain myself when I see him next." Martin muttered, Quinn shook her head, "Quinn I have to do this."

"Don't leave me." Quinn's hands gripped his face, "We need you! _I_ need you!" She took a gentle hold of his right hand, pressing it to her stomach, "Don't leave him behind." Martin felt himself falter,

"…A child?" he asked,

"Yes."

"_My _child…" he felt his resistance crumbling, "But if I don't do this now, he'll die with you, Quinn."

"Whatever it is," Arboghast said, "I'll do it. A kid shouldn't have to grow up without a dad!" Martin sighed, suddenly resigned.

"Unless you're a descendant of Talos, it's not possible." Martin's eyes never left Quinn's face, her features frozen in terror, tears soaked her cheeks, "I love you Ne Quin-al." His head dipped down, placing a deep kiss upon her lips before he withdrew from her and stepped back onto the altar in the center of the room. Jauffree didn't move from where he was,

"Please…" Quinn reached for him, but Arboghast's arms held her in place, "Let go, I have to stop him!" Martin felt a great rushing of air as the ceiling finally collapsed, knocking him back slightly. The giant beast beyond stared down at them, his great red eyes fixed upon Martin,

"I'll send you back to the hell you came from…" Martin breathed, he gripped the amulet in his hand, the red jewel crumbling in his hand, his hand burning as red blood dropped from it. The burning spread, his whole body beginning to feel as if it was in flames,

_Martin Septim._

Martin felt his head spin, a strange feeling of weightlessness spreading through him as he lifted from the ground, a great white light blinding him suddenly and consuming everything around him.

_We accept your sacrifice._

Martin's world went white with light, the burning did not stop, only intensified,

"_Martin!_" The scream jolted him, and the yearning to return to her seemed to bring him out of his daze. He found himself staring down upon the behemoth outside the Temple of the One, the heat and… and the _power…_ Martin felt energy pulsing through his new body, heat and light radiating from every pore as he reached for Mehrunes Dagon.

_Strike, Martin Septim._

Martin did, extending the neck of his new body and biting down harshly onto the demon's neck, blood flowing onto his tongue and down to the ground. Pain shot through him as Dagon struck his abdomen, but when Martin struck next he did not hold back, and he ripped and tore at the Deadra, biting and tearing at his neck until it flopped uselessly backwards. With a roar, Dagon fell back, and as he fell his body disappeared in a burst of red fire, scorching Martin's face as he stood back.

_It is done_.

Martin felt the heat and light begin to fade inside of him, an exhaustion he had never felt before biting at his soul, he felt himself growing cold, and as he let himself fall, he felt something grab him around the shoulders, holding him up, pulling him back towards the light, until it blinded him.

_Open your eyes, Martin Septim._ Martin didn't want to, to be honest, but at the commanding and throaty tone he did, pulling them open obediently. What he saw struck him dumb. If he had had a conscious body he might have fallen to his knees, _You have struggled many a day to save this country from the evils of Oblivion._ The great golden dragon before him was far brighter than the light around them. _Yet when your efforts bore fruit, and you stood to claim your birthright and begin your life with your new family, you sacrificed the peace you earnestly sought._

"Akatosh…"

_Yes, child._ The dragon's head bowed, _And I mourn your loss, and I grieve with your loving family and friends, Tamriel is lesser without you. You would have been a wise and noble Emperor..._

"What about Quinn?" Martin asked, "Will she be alright?"

_Only time will tell, but you __will__ see her again, Martin Septim, as you will see Uriel and so many others whom this war parted you from._

"And… my child?"

_His destiny is his own, Martin. That I cannot foresee._ Akatosh unfurled his great golden wings, _Come to me, Septim, and you will find your place amongst us. Greet your forebears with the knowledge that on this day, you have acted as my avatar and utterly defeated Mehrunes Dagon. The Table of Aedra are proud to call you… brother._


	24. The Dragon Born

Brother Jauffree plodded contently down the path, his feet hitting the stone heated by the sun, light filtering through lush green trees outside of Chorrol. He paused in the shade of an oak tree, leaning against it and catching his breath, wiping his sweaty palm on his robes. He felt the dagger on his hip nudge his arm as he stood again, continuing his pace uphill, towards great stone walls of Battlehorn Castle. It was a beautiful day, not a cloud in the sky, birds chirping, the sound of soldiers talking amongst themselves as they walked their patrol was oddly soothing. Jauffree was about to make the final effort up to the wrought iron gate, when a noise startled him. It was a faint rustling in the grass to his right, Jauffree peered into the tall grass idly, spotting something protruding from behind a large rock. The white tail flicked back and forth impatiently, sending rocks and dust into the air.

This was Jauffree's first time visiting the Keep on his own, his personal time had been very limited for the three years after Martin's death and the demise of Mehrunes Dagon, and this time he came back not to simply visit, but to stay. Ya Tirrje had decided to stay as well, and the invitation was extended by he and Arboghast, who had taken responsibility to care Quinn's child. Finally, after three years of waiting for the right time, Jauffree had finished his work in the Blades, and then after two years the work set for him at the Chapel nearby. Now he could oversee the monk's work, and keep a firm eye on the final heir to the Septim line until his very last breath. The baby, however, had not been seen by Jauffree, having been taken away by order of Chancellor Ocato when he was born, and Quinn had not been around to protest.

"Oh," Jauffree mocked loudly into the air, turning his back on the rustling grass, "I hope that my journey to Battlehorn is uneventful!" Jauffree was certain he heard a faint giggling from the brush, "I hope no mighty warrior springs from the brush to smite me!"

Jauffree heard more rustling, rocks scraping against the dirt as a tiny figure crawled through it, the white tail dragging through the soil. The grandmaster caught the faint hint of glinting eyes before a tiny figure leapt upwards towards him from the grass, a tiny white blur grabbing his around the chest and hanging on tightly,

"Gotchu!"

"Oh no! I am struck!" Jauffree mocked, glancing down at the Kajiit cub clinging to his chest, who looked up at him crankily.

"Not trying!" he said, "You're not trying! Fight back!"

"Well I'm rather big, aren't I? Don't want to hurt you."

"Poo!" the Kajiit said, letting himself slip down to the ground. "Who are you, anyway?"

"I'm surprised Arboghast didn't tell you I was coming, little one. I was invited by your grandfather."

"Oh! You're Jauffree!" The cub grinned up at him widely, his bright blue eyes squinting devilishly. The cub's face fell as there was a shout beyond the metal gate,

"_Alastor!_" Jauffree squinted a little to see Arboghast storming out into the courtyard, "_Damn it, boy! Tirrje's gonna have my nuts on a platter! Where are you?_" Jauffree wasn't surprised in the least as the kajiit's ears flicked backwards, pressing back in distress.

"Uh oh."

"'Uh oh' indeed." Jauffree snorted as Arboghast spotted the two of them outside the gate.

"_Alastor!_" Arbgohast quickly squeezed between the bars of the gate, stumbling forwards out of it. The cub hid behind Jauffree's legs, "You know you can't come out here without me!"

"But I was -"

"I don't care! You're lucky that is was _Jauffree!_" Arbo snagged the boy by the back of his blue robes, tucking him up under his arms, "No cream and biscuits tonight for you!" The cub let out a low groan of disappointment, "Come on, time to go in and clean up for dinner anyway… by the way…" Arbo turned to Jauffree briefly, smiling toothily, "I am happy to see you, Monk. Just was worried about the furball."

"It's nice to know the boy has a bit of courage in him."

"It is, but not when he's too tiny to put it to good use." Arbo said. A guard opened the gate for them, and Arboghast put the Kajiit down once in the courtyard, "Go on, Al, upstairs while I talk to Jauffree." He nudged him forwards gently, and the boy hurried inside. "Cute, isn't he?"

"He has his grandfather's fur, it seems, though luckily not his mother's green eyes." Jauffree said, "But… those eyes of his…"

"Just like Martin's huh? I thought so too. Sometimes the faces he makes freaks me out, looks just like his daddy. He's fast like Quinny, though."

"Yes… What does Ocato think of him?"

"He's not too sure yet, but he does want him on the throne at some point, so he's being educated by some really _expensive_ tutors. So long as the Empire is paying for it an not me, I don't really care. He doesn't have the same penchant for murder like his mother and I, thankfully, but he is fairly interested in magics." Arbo held the door open for Jauffree, who stepped in deftly and strode ahead towards the dining hall.

"As were Uriel, Martin, and Quinn. He'll be fine."

"And Ya Tirrje has been teaching him Kajiiti and Argonian, then Lucia taught him some Nordish before she passed on. He still _weirds_ me out by singing songs in it."

"Smart boy."

"Creepy as Sithis' nuts." Arbo said, as they passed into the dining hall, Alastor already pulling out a chair for himself and climbing into it, "You wash up?"

"Yes Uncle Arbo."

"'Kay, good. If you finish your dinner fast enough I'll even give you some cream and biscuits after, just don't choke." Arbo sat next to him, Alastor practically inhaling his dinner of meat and potatoes. "Help yourself, Jauffree, must have been a long trip."

"Where's Torva and Seek?"

"Mages Guild, Seen went back and took the girl with him. I hear she's quite the botanist."

"That's wonderful, Martin did always have a strong affection for her. What of Ya Tirrje? Where is he?"

"Sleeping I think, he's been a bit of an owl these days because the boy can't sleep… it's partially why I sent for you sooner than expected." Arboghast placed a hand on Alastor's back, "Al, wipe your mouth and tell Brother Jauffree about the dreams."

"Dreams?" Jauffree asked, Arbo nodded,

"It's just like it sounds, just like Martin and Uriel… go on, boy." Arbo scratched behind his ears, making them flick peevishly, "Tell him."

"It's… it cold." Alastor put his fork down, the black stripes in his fur shifting as Arbo scratched affectionately. "And… I'm yelling, I think, at a big monster."

"A dragon, we think." Arbo said, "He mentioned that it was scaly and had big wings."

"And the 'yelling'?"

"It's like I told Quinn when Martin did it at the battle of Bruma." Arbo explained, "All races of men descend from ancient Nedics, and with Lucia's father being Nordish… Me being half Nord myself, my grandfather supposedly could tame dragons."

"Martin's son, a dragon tamer? I've heard of worse."

"It's not just that." Arboghast said, Alastor shrank down in his seat, "Go on, you can tell him."

"I… don't want to." The cub said softly, shaking his head. The slouched posture reminded Jauffree of when Martin slouched over the Xarxes far into the night back at Cloud Ruler Temple.

"I think… he might be dreaming about Sithis." Arbo said, at Jauffree's blank stare, "Quinn told me she made a pact with the Night Mother when she killed Mankar Camoran."

"To do what?"

"Protect Alastor and the Septim line." Arbo said. He'd never lied to the boy, he hadn't spared any detail. The boy knew his mother died in childbirth, that his father 'died' defeating Dagon, that his mother was an assassin and his father was the next Emperor. Alastor knew what was in store, and didn't seem to care too much about it, though he was only five and didn't really seem to grasp the concepts thrown at him in that respect.

"He sees Sithis?"

"No, but he described Vicente awfully well, and said the man in the dreams called him Sithis." Jauffree pursed his lips in thought, "I was thinking about maybe moving around a little before the kid gets roped into politics. Maybe bring him to Elsweyr and Black Marsh, maybe even up north to High Rock. Take some of the edge off of him for a bit."

"I agree." Jauffree said, "He should see the kingdom he might rule."

"I'm not doing anything without Tirrje, though, the old man is brutal when the kid's in danger." Alastor seemed to lose his appetite, his hands folded in his lap as he twiddled his thumbs. "You can go upstairs if you want, Al."

"Will you come up soon?"

"Sure." The boy hopped out of his chair, scaling the stairs behind and disappearing, "I ain't going to lie, I love the little furball to death, but he's got a lot on his plate."

"That is true…" Jauffree leaned back in his chair, "What would Quinn say? Do you think that this is the right path for him?"

"_You're_ asking that question now? Who knows? Maybe we'll 'disappear' up in High Rock."

"Ocato would have a hissy."

"All the better, fucking politicians. He hasn't even met the kid and he's planning his future." Arbo sighed, "I miss them."

"Quinn and Martin?"

"And my little brother, yeah… Quinn didn't have the strength to name the cub when he was born. I had to do it after she…" Arbo shook his head, "Fuck, how does a visit from _you_ make me sentimental? I was a big bad assassin, now I'm an uncle and a nursemaid. The hell happened?"

"Are you complaining?"

"Nah." Arbo chuckled, "…I just hope we're doing right by him. I hope the Quinn and Martin are happy with us, wherever the hell they are."

"I'm certain they are."

"Oh yeah?"

"We're not ashey smudges on the ground, I doubt Sithis would let us screw up badly. Not to mention Quinn's wraith hasn't popped up to eat our eyes yet, you must be doing _something_ right."

"Think he can handle it? Arboghast asked. Jauffree paused for a moment, then nodded,

"If he's anything like his mother and father? Yes. He'll be fine."

* * *

So... that's it.

I was going to do another one for the boy, but I might wait for Skyrim to do that.

Thanks for reading!


End file.
